pRICE  ][j  CENTS 


Of^ENTURE^^I^ieJjNION. 


Copyrighted  at   Washington.  D    C,  by  Novelist  Piiblishinc  Co.     Ent, 


Vict,  Nrw    York,  as  second-cla. 


NEW  YORK. 


ON  SHILOH'S  FlELD:or^hti"8KitnfKe"tucky- 


By   WARD   EDWARDS,  "  High  Private,'   U.  S.  V. 


How  Kit  became  master  of  the  rebel  camp. 


THE  W  ^R  LIBRARY. 


On  Shiloh's  Field; 

OB, 

Fighting     Kit      of     TCentviolty. 

A  Story  oj  Battlefield  and  Bivouac. 


BY  WARD  EDWAHDS,   "HIGH  PRIVATE,      U.S.  V. 

Author  of  '•Blue  or  Gray,"  etc.,  ete. 


f 


CHAPTER  I. 

A  SAD  PARTING. 

Crack— crack ! 

A  double  rifle  report  broke  the  stillness  o£ 
the  night  air. 

"Mv  soul,  what  is  that?" 

The  suiveriuu  toned  exclamation  fell  from 
the  lips  of  a  gray-haired  man,  whose  mild, 
smooth  shaven  face  and  garb  proclaimed 
him  to  lie  a  minister. 

He  had  sprung  to  his  feet,  as  had  all  the 
other  members  of  his  family,  and  while 
every  face  blanched  every  head  was  bent  in 
a  listening  attitude. 

BYom  a  point  not  far  off  oaniivi  wild  shout, 
uttered  by  a  number  of  men  at  one  time, 
and  intoned  with  vindictiveness  and  hatred. 

Crack— crack ! 

Two  more  shots  rang  out,  clear,  sharp, 
with  deadly  emphasis. 

"  What  does  it  mean  ?" 

Again  the  speaker  was  the  gray  haired 
man  of  the  gospel. 

"Charles— Charles— it  may  be— a  dread 
presentiment  tells  me  it  is— our  darling  first- 
born who  is  returning." 

Once  more  a  wild  shout  reached  their  ears. 

At  first  it  was  exultant.  Then  it  changed 
to  the  fierce  tones  that  bespoke  disappoint- 
ment. 

One  minute  of  hreathlesssuspenseand  then 
the  tread  of  swiftly  falling  feet  could  be 
heard. 

"  it  is  Kit,"  gasped  Mr.  Langdon. 

Bang— bang ! 

Somebody  was  pounding  on  the  door. 

For  one  "instant  all  were  spellbound,  and 
then  Ben  Langdon  leaped  to  the  door. 

He  heard  the  bullets  crash  into  the  wood. 

But  he  did  not  hesitate. 

"Hurry!" 

He  recognized  the  voice. 

It  was  that  of   Ins   i 
husky  and  filled  with  pi 
bly  that  he  had  been  w< 

"Courage,  Kit."  Ben 
second  or  two  later  she 
and  flung  open  the  dooi 

Kit  Langdon  staggerei 
his  face  ghastly  white 
pain. 

Ben  let  him  pass  and  then  barred  the  door 
with  his  figure  and  faced  the  mad  rabble 
that  rushed  up  the  graveled  walk  hailing 
from  the  road  to  the  door  of  the  little  par- 
sonage. 

"Let  us  at  hi 
Kid  the  traitor 

They  would  have  thrust  Ben  aside,  but  he 
caught  up  the  first  man  in  his  arms  and 
violently  hurled  him  against  those  imme- 
diately in  his  rear,  sending  halt  a  dozen 
sprawling  to  the  earth. 

"Down  with  all  opposition!" 

"Kill  the  hull  on  "em!" 

"  Wipe  out  all  the  cursed  viper's  brood  !" 

"The  South  forever!" 

"All  shoot  together!" 

As  this  last  wild  and  savage  cry  rang  out 
fully  a  dozeu  rifles  were  raised  and  aimed  at 
Ben  Langdon's  breast. 

But  he  never  quailed. 

"Pause  ere  it  be  too  late!"  he  cried  in 
ringing  voice.  "Do  you  know  me?  Does 
anyone  present  know  me?" 

"  Yes,  you're  Ben  Langdon."  shouted  some 
one. 

"  Has  any  taint  of  treason  ever  attached  to 
my  name?" 

"  No;  you're  of  the  right  stuff.  But  not  so 
with  the  fellow  who  got  away  from  us  and 

actions  in  time  of  trial 

"  We've  heerd  tell,  Ben,"  croaked  an  elder- 
ly man,  "ay,  lad,  we've  heerd  tell  of  the 
glorious  work  ye' ve  done  along  with  Morgan. 
It  is  said  as  how  he  took  you  by  the  hand 
and  complemented  you  afore  all  the  men." 

"It  is  true." 

"I'm  glad  to  hear  it.  They  do  say  that 
you  fit  like  a  lion.  And  report  says  as  how 
the  hull  of  Morgan's  cavalry  'ud  a  been 
gobbled  up  if  yer  hadn't  done  jest  a9  you 


Bring  out  the  Union  spy! 


Now,  then,  is  there  a  man  here  whi 
doubts  my  loyalty  to  the  South?" 

"Not  one,"  was  the  unanimous  reply. 
Does  any  one  here  believe  that  I  am  i 
coward?" 
■'  Not  one.  ' 

"Does  any  one  here   believe  that  I  am  1 
liar— that  1  will  chew  any  words  I  once  utter?" 
"Not  one." 

"Then  listen  to  me:  That  man  whom  you 
have  been  pursuing  is  my  brother.  His 
sentiments  are  L'uiou,  but  he  is  as  honest  in 
his  convictions  as  I  am.  He  is  not  a  spy— he 
is  not  a  Union  soldier  even— and  I  intend  to 
defend  him  until  the  last  gasp.  He  is  in  the 
house  there — I  am  in  this  door.  To  reach 
him  you  will  have  to  go  through  this  door. 
anil  von  can  do  it  only  over  my  dead  body." 
He'  spoke  firmly  and  presented  an  un- 
daunted front  to  the  wild  rabble. 

A  silence  followed— a  silence  so  profound 
that  brave  Ben  could  hear  the  beating  of  his 
heart. 

The  would-be  slayers  of  Kit  Laugdon  were 
in  a  quandary. 

"lsay,  Ben,"  at  last  said   one,   "I  don't 
think  you're  doing  the  fair  thing." 
"  Why  not?" 

"  'Cause  we  want  Kit,  and  we  don't  want  to 
harm  you." 
"You  know  my  determination." 
He  saw  that  to  say  much  would  be  a  mere 
waste  of  words. 

After  a  little  the  guerrillas— for  such  they 
were— retired  a  short  distance. 

What  passed  betweeu  them  they  made 
known  through  a  person  selected  as  a 
speaker. 

"Ben  Langdon,"  he  said,  as  he  advanced 
to  within  a  few  feet  of  the  door,  "  we've  all 
heard  of  what  you've  done,  and  it  ain't  in 
our  hearts  to  do  ver  harm.  But  I  s'pose  yer 
know  as  how  Kit  made  a  speech  some 
time  asro,  advising  everybody  to  go  into  the 
Union  army.  Well,  even  though  he  ain't 
never  carried  arms,  he's  as  much  a  traitor  as 
though  he  had." 

"  And  your  decision?" 

"It  is  that  while  he's  under  that  roof  we 
won't  try  to  touch  him.  But  we  holds  to 
the  opinion  that  he's  ourmutton  jest  as  soon 
as  he  sticks  his  head  outside." 

"  And  you  will  not  permit  him  to  peaeably 
leave  the  neighborhood  ?" 

"  He  had  no  business  to  come  back  after 
he'd  once  got  away  safely." 

"You  will  not  spare  him  for  my  sake?" 
"No." 

"Nor  for  the  sake  of  that  gray-haired 
man— our  father,  God  bless  him  !— who  has 
pleached  eternal  life  to  you  for  so  many 
years?" 

"No.  'Cause  why?  Cause  the  parson's 
gone  back  on  us  as 'well?  He's  Union,  too. 
No— mo,  Ben,  of  the  hull  family  you're  the 
only  one  who's  true  blue." 

"So  be  it,  then,"  said  Ben,  seeing  that 
nothing  more  was  to  be  gained— that  the 
man  would  not  promiseain  greater  leniency 
toward  his  elder  brother. 

As  the  speaker  retreated,  Ben  closed  and 
bolted  the  door,  and  with  a  serious  face 
joined  the  group  in  the  cozy  sitting-room  of 
the  parsonage. 

He  found  Kit  resting  heavily  in  the  large 
arm-chair,  that  was  generally  held  sacred  to 
the  use  of  the  revered  father. 

"  Are  you  hurt,   Kit?"    Did  any  of  their 
rascally'  bullets   hit  you?"   he   tenderly  in- 
quired as  he  approached. 
Kit  held  out  his  hand. 

"I  heard  all,  Ben,"  he  said,  a  grateiullook 
in  his  face.  "It  was  noble  of  you  to  face 
those  brutes  in  my  behalf." 

"  Hush  !  Say  no  more — you  are  my  brother 
—and  we  have  always  loved  each  other 
dearly.  Are  you  hurt  much— for  hurt  you 
must  be?" 

"  I  do  not  believe  it  amounts  to  much— a 
mere  scratch.  But  now  I  must  go.  I  can- 
not consent  to  remain  here  longer,  knowing 
that  my  presence  means  possible  peril  to 
these  dear  ones." 

"Not  so,"  said  Ben,  firmly.  Sit  still;  do 
not  attempt  to  rise.  Now  tell  us  what  has 
happened?" 

"Nothing  so  very  much,"  returned  Kit. 
"You  know  I  was  home  soon  after  Sumter 
was  lircd  on.  Excitement  was  running  high, 
■  _  the 
hicago,  i 
went  to  work  in  my  eld  position 

"  Of  course  I  anxiously  watched  the  drift 
of  events.  A  newspaper  account  of  the  state 
of  feeling  in  ft  is  vicinity  alarmed  me,  es- 
pecially as  father's  name  was  mentioned. 
He  had  made  several  remarks  in  favor  of 
the  Union,  it  seemed;  and  'he  feeling  against 
him  was  said  to  be  bitter. 
"  At  once  I  became  alarmed  for  hi*  safety, 


and  determined  to  return  here  and  assist 
them  to  reach  a  place  of  safety  in  the  North, 
possibly  in  Chicago. 

"  I  kuew  I  was  hated,  and  so  came  secretly, 
hoping  to  reach  here  uuditeeted.  But  fate  was 
against  me.  I  was  halted  a  mile  from  here 
by  a  sentinel  stationed  in  the  road.  He  rec- 
ognized me.  I  shot  past  him,  and  then  the 
fearful  race  began,  which  ended  as  you 
know." 

"My  brave  boy!"  murmured  Mr.  Lang- 
don. 

"  You  thought  of  your  mother,  then,"  said 
Mrs.  Langdon,  with  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"And  I  returned  home  on  the  same  mis- 
sion," said  Ben.  "I  heard  rumors  of  the 
excitement,  immediately  applied  for  leave 
of  absence,  and  arrived  here  this  after- 
noon." 

Kit's  wound  proved  to  be  a  mere  scratch, 
as  he  had  said,  aud  wheu.it  had  been  exam- 
ined, washed  and  dressed  by  Ben,  all  the 
family  gathered  in  the  sitting-room. 

What  was  to  be  done  ? 

That  was  the  question  which  occupied  theii 
minds. 

It  was  midnight ;  and  any  number  of  plans 
had  been  discussed,  ere  they  settled  ou  one 
that  seemed  to  possess  the  elements  of  suc- 
cess. 

"That's  the  only  course,  father,"  said  Ben. 
"  You  must  seek  refuge  for  the  present  in 
the  mountains." 

"  I  hardly  like  to  flee — to  desert  my  charge 
and  church,"  was  the  reply,  a  troubled  ex- 
pression on  the  mild  face.  "  I  would  become 
a  martyr  to  principle  if  necessary." 

"It is  for  mother's  sake  and  that  of  Belle," 
was  the  rejoinder. 

"  For  their  sake  then,  I  consent."  he  sadly 
said.     "But  how  about  Kit?" 

"I  have  hit  on  a  plan.  He  must  blacken 
his  face  and  hands  and  pass  as  one  of  the 
negroes." 

"It  is  repugnant  to  my  every  feeling," 
cried  Kit. 

"You  must  doit,"  said  Ben,  earnestly,  m 
his  brother's  ear.  "  It  would  kill  mother  to 
have  vim  shot  before  her  eyes." 

By  two  o'clock  they  were  ready  to  start, 

Iii  an  hour  the  moon  would  rise;  by  tua* 
time  they  would— if  successful— be  at  the 
flint  nt  tlie  mountain,  and  the  luminary  of 
the  night  would  render  them  invaluable  as- 
sistance. 

"  If  oulv  the  guerrillas  have  withdrawn," 
wistfully' muttered  Ben,  when  naught  re- 
mained to  do  save  to  open  the  door  aud 
issue  forth. 

It  was  the  back  door  at  which  they  were 
to  make  their  exit. 

Opened,   while  all  held   their  breath,    no 
sound  of  an  alarming  nature  was  heard,  and 
"  f y  st<  ' 
ling  ' 

"They  must    believe    that    Kit    will   not 
make  any   attempt   to   leave  the  house   to- 
night, and  are  not  as  watchful  as  they  might 
be,"  thought  Ben. 
His  surmise  was  the  correct  one. 


In  safety  they  passed  the  limits  of  the  par- 
sonage grounds,  and  the  highway  lay  before 
them. 

They  did  not  venture  along  this,  taking  a 
cut  across  the  fields  instead. 

Just  as  the  pale  moon  showed  her  rim 
above  the  horizon,  aud  when  they  were  half 
a  mile  from  the  mountain  foot,  they  were 
ordered  to  halt. 

"Who  are  you?"  was  demanded. 

"lamBenLaucdon,  of  Morgan's  cavalry," 
was  the  reply  of  that  individual  as  he  step- 
ped to  the  front. 

"  Is  that  truth?" 

"It  is." 

"  I  must  have  a  look  at  you  anyhow,"  was 
the  rejoinder.  "I've  heard  as  how  all  the 
rest  of  the  family  are  Union." 

A  lantern  was  soon  flashed  into  his  face. 

A  score  of  men  had  crowded  around. 
Some  of  them  knew  Ben,  and  stated  that  he 
was  what  he  represented  himself. 

"But,"  said  one  fellow,  "you  know  we  got 
word  as  how  t'other  one  had  come  home  to- 
night,    Maybe  he's  in  the  party." 

"Look  for  yourselves,"  said  Ben. 

"  We'll  take  your  word  if  you'll  give  it." 

"Look  I'm  yourselves,  and  then  you'll  be 
sat  isaer'  "  said  Ben,  for  he  did  not  wish  to 
stoop  ti   "llsehood  if  it  could  be  avoided. 

It  was  uJ  anxious  few  minutes  that  passed., 
during  which  the  lantern  was  flashed  into 
the  face  of  each  one  of  the  party. 

Kit  bud  not  been  recognized. 

Every  one  breathed  a  deep  sigh  of  relief. 

"  Are  you  satisfied?"  asked  Ben. 

"Perfectly." 

"  Then  we  may  as  well  move  on." 

"  Where  are  you  going?" 

"  Into  the  mountains."  *«  Z* 

si 


THE  WAK   LIBRARY. 


"What  for?" 

"To  place  my  parents  in  a  place  of 
safety." 

"  Ain't  they  safe  to  hum?" 

"No,  not  in  such  troublous  times  as  these. 
Good-night." 

"  Good-night    But,  I  say?" 

"  WeU,  what  is  it  ?" 

"You  don't  intend   to   stay    there    your- 
self?" 
I      "No!     I   shall   soon   be    where  I  belong 
when  any  lighting   is   to  be  done— at  the 
trout  1" 

When  the  foot  of  the  mountains  was 
reached  a  halt  was  made. 
i  "I  must  leave  you  here,"  Kit  said.  "  If  I 
I  go  into  the  mountains  with  you  it  would  be 
impossible  to  say  when  I  could  getaway. 
If  1  make  quick  work  of  it  I  may  be  able  to 
reach  the  other  side  of  the!  )hio  in  safety." 

"(an  you  not  stay  with  us?"  asked  Mr. 
Laugdon. 

"No ;  duty  calls  me  North.  After  to- 
uight's  experience— after  being  hunted  like 
a  wild  beasts-only  one  course  is  left  me, 
which  is  to  subdue  a  cause  which  can  breed 
such  hell-hounds  as  those  who  sought  my 
blood." 

"Kit?" 

It  was  Ben  who  spoke,  and  a  world  of  gen- 
ii ■  reproach  was  com  eyed  in  that  one  word. 

"  1  can't  help  it,  Ben." 

"  Injustice,  Kit,  you  should  not  condemn 
the  whole  cause  on  account  of  the  actions  of 
a  few  individuals." 

"Oh,  Ben!"  and  Kit's  voice  rung  with 
pain,  "can  it  be  possible  that  you  believe 
the  cause  of  the  South  a  just  one?" 

"  If  I  did  not,  I  would  not  be  fighting  for 
;t,"  was  the  proud  reply. 

"  Henceforth  I  will  believe  vou  act  on  con- 
viction." 

"  Even  as  yourself ."  returned  Hen.  "You 
ivill  join  the  Union  army?" 

"I  shall. " 

"May  God  watch  over  you — and  if  per- 
chance" we  should  meet  in  the  heat  of  bat- 
tle  "  He  faltered,  his  voice  trembled,  he 

"Heaven  grant'  that  no  bullet  of  mine 
ever  harms  you,  Ben."  solemnly  said  Kit. 
'   The  thought  is  dreadful!" 

"  And  to  me  also.  But,  duty  is  duty,  Kit, 
and  «  e  must  not  shirk  it.  Duty  calls  you  in 
one  oireetion  while  it  calls  me  in  another, 
tut  it  can  never  sever  us." 

"No,  never,"  said  Kit,  in  a  husky  voice. 
■  You  will  first  see  our  loved  ones  safe  in 
ii  place  ot  reluare  in  the  mountains?" 

"1  will." 

Somehow,  for  a  brief  spell,  those  two 
strong  men  became  children  again;  and, 
holding  each  other  in  close  embrace,  their 
bearded  lips  met  as  tenderly  as  those  of 
lover 


Tic 


Kit  now  hade  his  parents  and  sister  a  sad 
farewell— perhaps  the  last  he  should  ever 
utter  it  occurred  to  him;  and  then,  turning 
in  his  heel,  hurried  away. 

"There  goes  a  noble  man,"  thought  Ben, 
as  he  watched  his  brother's  form  recede. 
"Ah!  if  he  could  only  think  as  I  do." 

"Brave,  high-spirited  Ben  !"  murmured 
Kit,  as  he  went  swiftly  forward.  "  It  wrings 
tpy  heart  to  have  him  fight  against  tic 
Union— but  he  is  honest  in  his  convictions, 
mid  I  must  not  blame  him." 

Surely  no  father  had  two  nobler  sons 
enter  that  awful  strife  than  had  Mr. 
Langdou. 

But  it  was  terrible  to  remember  that  they 
were  opposed  to  each  other,  that  either 
might  shed  the  other's  blood,  that  either 
might  lay  low  and  cold  in  death  a  head  that 
had  been  pillowed  on  the  same  mother's 
breast,  and  stiffen  limlis  that  had  been 
bent  in  prayer  at  the  same  dear  mother's 
knees ! 

CHAPTER  II. 

A    PERILOUS  MISSION. 

The  spring  ol  lsii:>  was  a  period  of  gloom  in 
all  the  Norl  I. em  states. 

It  had  been  said: 

"In  ninety  days  the  rebellion  will  be  at  an 
end,  and  the  rebels  conquered." 

But  this  bad  not  proved  true. 

The  Southerners  had  shown  that  they 
knew  how  to  light  -and  fight  well. 

They  had  also  made  it  perfectly  evident 
hat  their  officers  were  not  less '  brilliauf 
ind  less  able  than  those  of  the  Federal 
irmy. 

Indeed,  there  were  not  a  few  people,  who 
lould  look  facts  squarely  in  the  face,  who 
aid  that  the  Southern  generals  were  more 
than  a  match  for  those  of  our  own  armies. 

Certain*!  is,  that  with  smaller  armies,  with 


their  men  lacking  in   discipline,  the   Confe- 
crates  had  given  us  (not  to  be  mealy-mouth- 
ed as  to   the  form   of  expressing  the  facts) 
several  good  drubbings. 
The  Federal  troop*  bad  begun  to  look  with 


re-pec 


i  opposed  to  them. 
ii.st  be  done!" 
esperate  feeling  and  resolu- 


( 'onfedeiate  commander,  had  everything  his 
own  way. 

The  Union  generals  decided  that  Fort 
I  ionelsou  should  be  taken,  and  preparations 
to  that  end  were  quickly  made. 

Scouting  parties  were  sent  out  in  all  direc- 
tions, and  one  of  them  was  under  the  charge 
of  Kit  Langdou— or,  as  he  was  more  fre- 
quently spoken  of,  Kit  from  Kentucky. 

It  was  an  extremely  dangerous  mission 
which  had  been  given  him  to  accomplish; 
and,  indeed,  he  had  been  selected  because  it 
was  an  extra  hazardous  expedition. 

Already  Kit  had  made  a  nam.,  for  himself, 
had  established  a  reputation  as  a  brave  man, 
and  he  had  been  urged  to  accept  an  officer's 
position. 

But  he  had  resolutely  shaken  his  head. 

"I  do  not  care  to  become  an  officer,"  he 
said;  "and  I  shall  never  become  one  unless 
there  is  a  need  for  officers  that  cannot  be 
filled.     Then,  if  my  country  calls  on  me,  I 


will  not  shirk." 

He  was  a  very  useli 

1   man   as   a   private, 

since  he  could  be  dets 

ched  and   sent   away 

without  causing  any  c 

eminent,  and  his  lion- 

like  courage  and    ind 

initablc    will    insured 

success  in  everything 

ic  undertook. 

And  so,  just  before 

he  affair  at  Fort  Don- 

d,  and    bidden  to  hold 

himself    in    readiness 
country. 
He  was  permitted  t< 

for    a     dash     across 

select  his  own  men. 

A  score  were  offered  him,  but  lie  Ihoiighi 
a  smaller  number  would  be  safer,  so  he  took 
ouly  three. 

"'What  I  want,"  said  the  brigade  com- 
mander, "is  to  obtain  a  more  accurate  idea 
of  the  trend  of  the  ground  ahead  of  us.  And 
particularly  do  I  wish  to  learn  about  a 
ravine,  about  which  the  reports  differ.  I 
want  to  know  all  about  that  ravine." 

"I  am  afraid,  sir,  that  our  being  mounted 
is  a  bad  thing  if  we  arc  going  to  explore  the 
ravine,"  said  Kit.  "Perhaps  the  expedition 
had  better  be  made  at ." 

The  other  shook  his  head. 


d    gi 


<c  too  long."  he  said.  "  I 
how  to  manage  the  mat- 
your  horses,  if  necessary, 
them    after    you've  been 


It  was  the  most  important  trust  that  had 
been  placed  in  Kit's  hands,  and  in  his  feeling 
of  natural  pride  all  thought  of  danger  was 
forgotten. 

At  last  the  camp  was  left  behind. 

As  yet  none  of  his  companions  knew  where 
they  were  going,  or  what  for. 

Now  one  of  them  asked: 

"What's  the  orders,  Kit?" 

"To  go  into  Fort  Iionelson  and  count  the 
Confederates  there."  was  the  reply,  with  a 
merry  twinkle  in  his  eyes. 

He  who  asked  the  question  turned  pale 
and  gasped  for  breath. 

The  others  fidgeted  uneasily  in  their 
saddles. 

"You  don't  mean  it.  Kit,  do  you?" 

A  ringing  laugh  that  fell  from  Kit's  lips 
was  the  answer. 

They  saw  that  he  had  been  fooling,  but 
felt  too  much  relieved  to  get  angry  about  it. 

"I  didn't  know  but  what  it  was  so,"  said 
one,  "'cause  we  took  off  the  regulation 
clothes  and  put  on  civil  suits  again." 

"No;  we're  out  on  a  simple  scouting  ex- 
pedition. But  as  we  may  get  pretty  close  to 
the  enemy,  or  actually  encounter  him,  it  is 
safer  to  dress  in  this  way." 

"  Then  some  of  us  may  never  get  back?" 

"It  is  possible  ;  although  I  hope  that  we 
may  all  get  through  safe  and  sound." 

As  a  matter  of  fact  they  were  engaged  in 
au  extremely  perilous  undertaking. 

Across  country  they  struck,  in  high  spirits, 
even  though  they  knew  that  soon  a  rebel 
bullet  might  lay  them  low  in  death. 

Fortune  smiled  on  them. 

Tin  y  had  gone  to  the  furthest  limit  to 
which  Kit's  orders  directed  him,  and  al- 
though they  had  encountered  a  score  of  peo- 
ple in  all,  they  had  not  been  halted. 

Now  Kit  faced  about. 

His  aim  was  now  to  return  to  camp,  exam- 
ining the  ravine  on  his  way. 

A  brisk  ride  of  an  hour  brought  them  to 
one  end  of  the  ravine. 


During  this  ride  Kit  had  decided  on  a 
course  to  pursue. 

Leaving  one  man  with  the  horses,  with 
orders  to  advance  and  meet  him  at  the  upper 
end  of  the  ravine,  Kit  took  the  others  and 
plunged  into  the  thick  growth  of  young 
timber. 


actually  measuring  them. 

"This  is  a  bad  sort  of  a  hole,"  remarked 
one  of  the  men,  when  a  momentary  pause 
was  made  while  Kit  took  some  notes. 

"It  is  that." 

"I  tell  you  it'd  fare  bad  with  a  regiment 
that  got  mixed  up  in  here." 

"So  it  would.  And  do  you  know  I  think 
it  mighty  queer  we  ain't  run  agin  a  nest  of 
rebs  in  here  afore  this." 

"  It  in  queer  to  me  also.  Wonder  if  Kit's 
thought  of  it?" 

"What's  that?" 

Kit  had  heard  his  name  mentioned  and 
asked  the  question. 

"This  ravine  strikes  us  as  beiu' a  likely 
place  to  run  across  a  partv  of  rebs." 

"  So  it  is,"  said  Kit,  slowly. 

"You'd  thought  of  it,  then?" 

"Yes;  and  I  meant  to  tell  you  to  keep  your 
eyes  open  and  your  weapons  handy  iu  ease 
they  were  needed.  But  I  didn't  say  any- 
thing, thinking  it   might    be    alarming    you 


u  ain't  agoin' now  to    begin 

>  wards  '.''"'" 

or  I  know  that  vou  aie  not," 

iiy. 

loquy  they  moved    forward 


far  distant,  all  drew  a  deep  breath  of  relief. 

They  thought  that  now  all  danger  was 
past. 

Yet  they  had  never  before,  .-luce  entering 
the  ravine,  been  anywhere  near  as  great 
peril  as  they  were  now  in,  for.  as  was  nat- 
ural, they  dropped  a  portion  of  their  cau- 
tion—even  while  advancing  and  close  upon  a 
concealed  foe! 

Forward   they    went,  intending  to  emerge 


■Hall  ! 


The  order  was  accompanied  by  the  omin- 
iiis  clicking  of  a  musket-lock. 

Taken  completely  by  surprise,  all  three 
vcrc  speechless  lor  it  minute. 

Then    dropped   from  the  lips  of  one   the 


It  was  uttered  iii  a  tone  too  low  for  the 
fiifs  of  any  save  his  companions. 

"  Hush!  '  hissed  Kit, 

"  Do  you  surrender  ?" 

"  Surrender?" 

Kit  repeated  the  word,  iu  a  tone  that  was 
Idled  with  questioning  surprise. 

■■  Yes,  surrender." 

"  What  should  we  surrender  for?  And  t9 
whom?" 


If.v 


trying  to   work,  am 

"  Yanks,  did  you  say?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  my  lads,"  he  said,  to  his  compan- 
ions, in  a  low  tone,  yet,  intended  to  reach 
the  ears  of  the  other  parly,  "keep  your 
pistols  handy,  and  if  there  ain't  too  many 
of  the  cussed  Yanks,  just  pile  iu  when  1  give 

the  sign,  and    let   eiii  what  three  Texas 

fire-eaters  can  do." 

The  words  were  not  without  effect. 

A  party  of  half  a  score  of  Confederate 
cattered  in  the  bushes,  cut- 


Tie 


:.,ff  i 


e  grit  in  Kit's 
g  about  it,  and 
having  started 


tone.  It  had  the  gen 
the  spokesman  of  thi 
out  to  fool  Kit,  was  fooled  himself. 

"You're  Secesh,  then?"  hesaid. 

"If  you're  a  Yank,  then  I'm  a  Secesh!" 
was  the  positive  reply,  to  which  more  than 
one  meaning  could  be  attached 

"  Guess  its  all  straight." 

"Guess  so,  too,"  said  Kit,  "that,  isforyou. 
You've  got  us  dead  to  rights,  if  I'm  to  judge 
by  all  these  muzzles  sticking  out  here  and 
there." 

The  spokesman  laughed. 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


"No— no— I  mean  that  you  haven't  fell 
into  the  hands  of  Yanks,  but  into  the  hands 
of  your  friends — for  us  ten  fellows,  I'll  war- 
rant, are  as  rank  Secesh  as  it's  possible  to 
make  'em." 

Kit  sighed  deeply. 

To  all  appearance  it  was  a  sigh  occasioned 
bv  a  feeling  of  relief. 

"  Makes  you  feel  better,  eh?" 


we've  got  a  camp-fire  a  little  bit  up  this 
wav,  and  we  don't  mind  letting  you  have  a 
hack  at  a  little  porker  we've  just  been 
roastin'." 

Kit  found  an  opportunity  to  say  a  few 
words  to  his  two  companions  on  the  way  to 
the  i  amp-fire. 

As  they  went  along,  more  than  one  sus- 
picious glance  was  cast  at  Kit  and  his  com- 
panions. 

The  scrutiny,  however,  resulted  in  an 
opinion  favorable  to  them,  and  they  no 
sooner  reached  the  camping  spot  than  the 
rebels  dropped  all  reserve  and  caution. 

The  pig  was  masted  to  a  turn. 

It  was  luscious— so  Kit  decided,  as  soon  as 
his  eyes  rested  on  it. 

His  eyes  did  not  deceive  him,  as  he  learned 
a  few  minutes  later,  when  he  began  to  pick 
a  spare-rib. 

In  less  than  fifteen  minutes  the  meal  was 
finished,  and  the  rebels  for  the  most  part 
pulled  out  pipes  and  tilled  them  preparatory 
to  having  a  smoke. 

"  Who  can  tell  a  story  ?" 

This  question  fell  from  the  lips  of  the  man 
who  had  acted  as  spokesman. 

Like  lightning.  Kit  saw  the  opportunity. 

He  winked  expressively   at  one  of  his  com- 

S anions,  and  then  let  his  eyes  drift  to  where 
le  guns  were  standing. 

Nobody  volunteered  to  tell  a  story. 

"Can't  some  of  you  fellers?"  looking  at 
Kit  and  his  friends.' 

"  I  don't  know "  said  Sam  Black,  mus- 

"  Want 
,  so  long  as  its  exciting. 

"Well,  now,  let  me  see.  I  guess  I  might 
tell  about  the  time  when  I  was  all  buthung. 
You  so " 

••Ale  in!" 

Every  eye  was  turned  toward  Kit,  who 
had  coughed,  as  if  on  purpose. 

"What's  the  matter?" 

"Oh,  nothing;  only  as  I've  heard  that 
story  about  lifi'y  times.  1  beg  to  be  excused 
from  listening  to  it  again." 

At  this  then'  was  a  laugh,  and  to  all  ap- 
pearances Sam  Black  was  much  discon- 
certed. 

Kit  rose  to  his  feet,  si  retched,  yaw  ned,  and 
stalled  slowlv  away. 

After  taking  a  couple  of  steps  lie  paused. 
and  faced  the  party  with  a  laugh. 

"I  hope  you'll  enjoy  Sam's  story  well 
enough  to  pay  you  tor  the  trouble  he'll  put 
you  to.  When  lie  gets  to  a  certain  point  he'll 
declare  he  cant  explain  »  hat  followed  until 
you  all  give  him  your  revolvers,  which  I 
advise  you  to  watch  carefully,  as  he  ha~  a 
weakness  for  a  fine  gun." 

A  puzzled  look  shot  into  Sam's  hue. 

The  next  instant  he  saw  clearly  the  hint 
Kit  was  giving  him. 

But  it  troubled  him  greatly. 

The  story  of  how  he  came  near  to  being 
hung  must  be  concocted  as  lie  went  along; 
and  how  in  the  world  was  he  to  ring  in  a 
circumstance-  on  which  to  base  a  request  for 
the  use  of  their  weapons  to  help  make  it 
plain  ? 

Sam  was  a  shrewd  fellow,  but  for  once 
he  saw  himself  in  a  box,  to  escape  from 
which  would  require  all  his  wit  and  nerve. 

However,  he  proved  himself  equal  to  the 
occasion. 

From  his  lips  there  fell  a    rollicking  laug 


•That  ain't  fair,  old  1 


he  called  afte 


laid  it  down  in  front  of  Sam,  at  the  same 
time  looking  keenly  at  him.  Perhaps  he 
Mispected  Sam,  and  meant  to  give  him 
enough  rope  to  hang  himself.  All  his  com- 
panion.-, followed  SUlt. 

It  was  a  simple  trick— one  which  a  person 
would  think  could  hardly  be  played  on  ten 
men  of  ordinary  intelligence. 

Yet  the  fact  remains  that  it  was  done. 

"Ahem!" 

This  time  it  was  Sam  who  coughed. 

He  glanced  toward  Kit. 

The  latter  darted  at  him  a  look  which 
said  : 

"  Go  ahead.  Keep  their  attention  for  a 
minute  or  two." 

"  Well,  boys,"  began  Sam,  "  you  may 
think  it  a  funny  beginning  to  speak  about 
Sir  Isaac  Newton,  the  man  who  discovered 
the  law  of  gravitation  through  seeing  an 
apple  fall  from  a  tree. 


bein'  hung  was  because,  while  I'm 
a  pretty  smart  fellow,  I  think  I  can  be  a 
blamed  fool,  and  was  then.  And  I  mention 
Newton  to  show  that  a  man  can  be  a  fool 
at  times,  even  if  he's  got  as  many  brains  as 
that  chap  himself." 

"Well,  don't  be  long-winded." 

"  What's  Newton  got  to  do  with  your 
story,  anyhow?" 

"  Cut  it  short." 

"  Ain't  I  to  be  let  tell  my  story  in  my  own 
way?"  asked  Sam,  in  an  injured  tone. 

"Yes,  as  long's  you  don't  spin  it  too  long." 

"  Then  I  must  tell  what  Newton  did.  You 
see.  he  had  two  cats  of  which  he  thought  a 
heap.  One  of  'em  was  a  great  big  fellow 
that  'ud  a  made  three  of  t'other  one,  which 
wasn't  more'n  a  kitten. 

"Now,  then,  it  struck  him  one  day  as  how 
he  kept  the  cats  in  the  house  too  much  on 
account  of  not  wantiu'  to  open  the  door 
when  thev  wanted  to  get  out.  So  he  sent 
for  the  carpenter,  and  he  says  to  him  : 

'"Iwan't  you  to  cut  a  hole  in  the  door 
so's't  them  cats  can  come  in  and  go  out  just 
when  they're  so  minded.' 

'"All  right,  sir,'  says  the  carpenter,  and 
soon  he  had  a  hole  cut  in  the  door  big 
•enough  for  the  biggest  cat  to  go  through. 

"Later  on   in   the    day,  Newton    felt  the 
'  agin  his  1 
around  for  the  big  one  ;  but 
had  gone  out. 

'"Why  ain't  you  out  doors,  puss?' says 
Newton.  '  Why  ain't  you  outside  with  your 
chum  ?' 

"  Then  he  chanced  to  look  toward  the  door 
and  at  once  jumped  up  from  his  chair,  mad- 
der nor  a  hornet. 

■•'Send    that    blockhead    of    a    carpenter 


hen 


Kit. 


•What  ain't  fair  !" 
"Why   to  go  to   prejudicin'  the  minds  of 
this 'ere  jolly  lot  of  fellows  agin  my  story." 

against  it,  I  only  "said  jou'd  give 'cm  a  heap 
of  trouble  in  asking  for  their  weapons  so's 
to  explain  something  more  clearly." 

"That  aiu't  no  trouble  if  the  story's  a  good 

So  said  the  spokesman. 

partner,  who  was  ju>l  beginning  to  compre- 
hend the  drift  of  the  by-play. 

"Supposin'  we  start  I  he  tiling  right?"  sug- 
gested Sam.  ".lo*t  lay  your  weepous  down 
here  in  a  pile  like,  and  theu  I  wou't  have  to 
break  into  my  story  and  come  to  a  stop 
while  I  get  'em?" 

"Not  a  bad  idea,"  and  with  a  laugh  the 
leading  rebel  drew  his  ouly  revolver  and 


carpenter.     'Well?' 
Imw  stupid  you  have 
u  I   wanted  both  my 


••  'You  did,  sir,'  says  the  carpenter,  kind  of 
mvsiilied  like. 

••  -Well,  sir,  don't  you  see  that  the  little 
one's  in  here?' 

"[do,  sir.    Well,  sir?' 

"  Newton  was  thunderin'  mad,  now. 

•■  •  Well,  sir,  I  want  the  little  cat  to  go  out 
as  well  as  the  big  one.' 

"  'Then  why  don't  she  go.  sir?'  says  the 
carpenter. 

"  '  Why!  You  infernal  blockead  can't  you 
see  why?— you  cut  a  hole  for  the  big  one, 
but  didn't  make  one  for  t  he  little  cat.' 

"  The  carpenter  scratched  his  head. 

"  'My  Lord  !'  he  said,  '  if  the  big  cat  can 
go   through   that  hole,  can't  the   little  one, 

A  hearty  laugh  burst  from  the  throats  of 
Sam's  auditors.  They  could  see  the  ludicrous- 
ness  of  the  situation  in  which  the  great  Sir 
Isaac  Newton  found  himself. 

"  Well,  but  now  go  on  with  the  story  of 
how  you  came  near  being  hung,"  said  the 
spokesman. 

"All  right,"  said  Sam,  coolly;  "I  ouly 
wanted  to  show  how  the  smartest  of  men 
can  sometimes  be  fools— just  as  you  have 
been." 

They  all  started. 

Something  in  his  tone  and  words  made 
them  feel  uncomfortable. 

Then  suspicious  looks  flashed  into  their 
faces,  and  they  eyed  Sam  qiiestiouiugly. 

"  I  demand  that  you  all  surrender  peace- 
ably." 

All  eyes  turned  in  the  direction  of  the 
voice  uttering  these  words. 

It  was  to  hud  Kit. standing  between  them 


and  their  muskets,  with  a  revolver  in  either 
hand. 

They  half  started  to  their  feet. 

' '  Be  quiet ;  do  not  venture  to  make  a  move 
—for  the  man  who  does  so  dies  in  a  hurry." 

Sam  and  his  side-partner  had  taken  ad- 
vantage of  the  moment  of  surprise  to  corral 
the  firearms  which  they  had  yielded  up  to 
explain  his  story  in  a  far  different  manner 
than  they  dreamed. 

Kit's  two  stanch  friends  each  stood  hold- 
ing a  brace  of  cocked  revolvers,  ready  to 
use  them,  unless  the  rebs  caved  grace- 
fully. 

"Trapped!"  groaned  the  spokesman. 
"  And  by  three  infernal  Yanks,  whose  heads 
we  could  have  blown  the  whole  top  off." 

"  Do  you  surrender  ?" 

Calmly  Kit  spoke,  his  tone  being  one  that 
indicated  that  he  meant  business. 


CHAPTER  III. 


Do  ■ 


you  surrender? 
So  Kit  had  demanded. 
A  verbal  reply  was  hardly  necessary.   The 
bowed  heads  and   crestfallen  looks  of  the 
guerrillas  fully  answered  the  question. 

Had  they  been  cornered  in  a  fight, 
hemmed  in  by  superior  forces,  it  would  not 
have  been  so  hard  to  surrender;  but  it  came 
awful  tough  for  ten  men  to  surrender  to 
three,  who  had  only  a  short  time  before 
been  so  completely  in  their  power, 
and  by  a  trick  so  simple  that  a  child  might 
have  seen  through  it  at  once. 

But  even  though  their  captors  were  only 
three  in  number,  they  saw  that  they  were 
caught  as  securely  as  though  the  number 
had  been  thirty. 

"Put  up  your  hands!"  Kit  now  ordered. 

There  was  no  help  for  it ;  they  could  only 
obey. 

With  a  groan  they  raised  their  hands. 

"Now,  come  forward  one  at  a  time!"  was 
the  next  order. 

While  Kit  and  Sam  kept  the  others  cov- 
ered, the  rebel  who  advanced  had  his  hands 
tied  behind  him  by  the  third  soldier,  tight 
enough  to  prevent  his  using  them,  yet  loose 
enough  not  to  interfere  with  his  ability  to 
march. 

When  all  ten  had  been  thus  disposed  of 
Kit  formed  them  into  line  and  marched 
them  out  of  the  woods. 

Less  than  half  a  mile  away  was  the  remain- 
ing number  of  the  scouting  party,  with  their 
horses. 

Having  reached  him,  Kit  aud  his  compan- 
ions mounted,  and  the  cursing  and  crest- 
fallen rebs  were  ordered  to  advance. 

"  I  say,  Kit." 

Sam  aud  Kit  rode  in  the  rear  of  the  cap- 
tives, while  the  other  two  led  the  way. 

Sam's  tone  was  very  grave. 

"  Well,  what  is  it?"  was  Kit's  rejoinder. 

"  Do  you  really  mean  to  try  and  take  them 
chaps  into  camp?" 

"Yes.    Why  not?" 

"It's  risky." 

"  Granted." 

"  I  don't  think  it  can  be  done." 

"Isn't  it  possible?" 

"  Yes,  but  not  probable.  You  know  we've 
got  a  stretch  of  nearly  five  miles  through  a 
rebel  country." 

"i  know  it." 

"We'll  get  cornered." 

"Perhaps  so,"  assented  Kit.  "But,"  he 
added,  "we  won't,  if  we  have  as  good  luck  as 
has  attended  us  ever  since  we  started." 

"  Luck  is  a  bad  thing  to  depend  on." 

"  I  know  it,  Sam,  and  if  you  say  so,  I'll  let 
the  rebs  go,  and  spur  for  camp.  You  see  I 
put  a  good  deal  of  faith  in  your  judgment." 

Sam  was  silent. 

'•  Well,  what  do  you  say  ?" 

Kit  glanced  keenly  at  Sam  as  he  asked  the 
question. 

"It  would  be  something  to  talk  about, 
wouldn't  it,  if  we  could  only  run  them  fel- 
lers in  ?"  he  said,  wistfully. 

"That  it  would." 

"I  don't  know  as  I'd  feel  comfortable  if 
we  was  to  let  'em  go." 

"Nor  I." 

"You  ain't  afraid  to  risk  it?" 

"  No." 

"Then  I  won't  be,"  said  Sam,  resolutely. 
"We'll  take  'em  into  camp  or " 

"Or,  what?" 

"Or  we  won't  get  there  ourselves,"  Sam 
quickly  finished. 

It  was  a  mighty  risky  thing  they  hadstart- 
ed  out  to  do. 

For  a  distance  of  five  miles  they  must  pass 


THE  WaH  LIBRARY. 


beside  tin'  woman's. 

"That  settles  it,"  he  muttered.  "  He  will 
give  the  alarm,  and  an  attempt  at  rescue  will 
be  made." 

"Start  the  rebs  at  double-quick,"  suggest- 
ed  Sam  Black. 

The  order  was  given;  and,  for  a  distance  of 
a  mile,  the  prisoners  covered  the  ground  at  a 
rapid  pace,  and  then,  being  winded,  they 
fell  i lit.i  a  walk 

Kit's  fears  of  an  attempt  at  rescue  were 
well  founded. 

On  horseback,  the  mau  who  had  seen  tliem, 
dashed  swiftly  hither  and  thither,  relating 
what  he  had  seen  ;  and,  when  camp  was  still 
two  miles  away,  Kit  heard  the  tramp  of 
'  be  rear. 


ailes  away, 
'  hoot's  in  the 


of  all  four  of  the  scouting  party. 

"What  can  we  do,  Sam  ?"  asked  Kit. 

"I  don't  know." 

"Can't  you  think  of  something?" 

"No — except  it  is  to  cut  and  run,  if  we 
want  to  save  our  own  bacon,"  was  the  re- 
luctant reply, 

"  You  see  no  way  of  hanging  on  to  our 
prisoners?'' 

"No,  Idon't.    Do  you?" 

"I  wish  I  did." 

The  rebs  meanwhile  were  muttering  ex- 
ultantly to  themselves. 

Escape  was  sure,  or  so  they  thought,  and 
they  began  to  gloat  over  the  vengeance  they 
would  help  wreak  on  the  heads  of  the  dar- 
ing and  cursed  Tanks. 

Until  the  very  last  minute  consistent  with 
safety  did  Kit  wait;  and  then  his  lips  parted 
to  give  the  order  to  press  on  and  leave  the 
prisoners  to  themselves. 

The  order  was  not  given. 

The  words  died  on  his  lips. 

Less  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile  ahead  he  saw 
a  party  of  horsemen,  perhaps  a  dozen  in 
number. 

One  glance  informed  him  that  they  were 
rebels. 

They  had  taken  a  short  cut  across  country 
and  headed  him  off. 

"The  devil!"  gasped  Sam. 

"  We're  in  a  fix  now,"  grunted  one  of  the 
men  in  advance. 

"Between  two  tiles,"  said  the  other. 

Involuntarily  they  came  to  a  halt. 

They  were  in  a  very  unenviable  position, 
for  if  the  tables  were  turned  and  thev  be- 
came prisoners  they  could  be  called  to  ac- 
count as  spies. 

What  was  to  be  done  ? 

For  one  minute  after  seeing  how  he  had 
been  trapped.  Kit  was  deadly  pale.  But, 
with  the  exception  of  that  minute  he  re- 
mained calm  and  clear-headed   throughout. 

At  first  he  thought  of  deserting  the  roads 
and  giving  them  a  wild  chase  across  country, 
but  as  Ins  eye  swept  the  landscape  on  either 
side  of  the  road  the  idea  was  abandoned,  for 
the  conformation  of  the  ground  could  only 
result  in  throwing  Mini  more  certainly  into 
the  hands  of  the  Confederates. 

"Shall  we  try  to  cut  through  'em?"  so 
asked  Sam,  in  a  hoarse  voice. 

"No." 


a  n£- 


"  Well,  we're  going  to  take  refuge   there." 
"  And  be  burned  out  like  rats?"  said  Sam. 
"No;  we're  going  to  take  the  prisoners  in 
ith  us." 
"And  the  horses?" 


facesof  the  captive  guerrillas  when  they  were 
ordered  to  advance  toward  the  leg  hut. 

They  had  thought  rescue  certain,  but  now 
foresaw  a  possibility  of  not  escaping  at  all. 

They  hung  back,  delaying  as  much  asthev 
dared,  until  at  last  Sam  deliberated  winged 
one  of  them. 

Impressed  by  this  with  the  idea  that  busi- 
ness was  meant  they  hung  liaek  no  longer, 
but  scampered  across  the  intervening  space 
and  bolted  through  the  open  door  into  the 
hut. 

Before  the  door  the  scouts  dismounted, 
and  alter  turning  their  horses  loose  with  a 
sigh,  sprung  inside. just  in  season  to  escape  a 
volley  from  the  rebs,  and  then  closed  and 
barricaded  the  door. 


With  a  wild  howl  the  rebs  rushed  up;  but 
for  the  present,  at  least,  the  Federal  scouts 
were  safe  from  their  vengeful  fury. 

"  Batter  down  the  door!"  suddenly  cried 
somebody,  and  instantly  a  rush  was  made 
for  the  door. 

"We  must  put  a  stop  to  that,"  exclaimed 
Kit. 

"Right!"  said  Sam. 

"  ( 'an  you  manage  to  sight  'em  ?" 

"  Wing  one." 

"  Correct!" 

Crack  ! 

Then  came  a  howl  of  pain,  rising  high  and 
clear  above  all  other  sounds. 

Immediately  tin-  rebs  retreated. 

They  did  not  halt  until  they  were  out  of 
rifle  shot. 

"Think  they'll  come  back?"  asked  one  of 
Kit's  men. 

"Come  back!"  repeated  Sam,  in  an  iron- 
ical tone,  as  lunch  as  to  say  that  only  a  fool 
would  ask  the  question.  "  Of  course  they'll 
come  back.  Yon  don't  suppose  they're  going 
to  cave  afore  four  men?" 

"  But  what  can  they  do?" 

"That  remains  to  be  seen." 

An  hour  passed. 

The  captive  guerrillas  cursed  their  luck 
most  bitterly,  alternating,  with  expressing 
fierce  hopes  of  a  speedy  rescue. 

"Our  boys  have  got  you  cornered,  curse 
you!"  one  of  them  hissed  at  Kit;  "and  if 
they  get  at  you  they'll  hang  every  mother's 
son  of  you." 

"Perhaps!"  said  Kit,  sternly.  "But  you 
will  not  be  there  to  see  the  hanging!" 

Kit  spoke  significantly. 

The  fellow  cowered  and  cringed,  and  said 
no  more. 

Meanwhile  the  would-be  rescuers  had 
held  a  council  to  decide  on  the  best  steps  to 
take. 

Suggestions  had  been  made  by  scores,  but 
when  all  were  boiled  down  to  hard  pan,  it 
became  evident  that  if  they  were  to  rescue 
the  captured  rebs  it  must  be  by  one  of  two 
methods— assault  or  siege. 

Time  was  too  valuable  to  expend  in  trying 
to  starve  out  the  Federals. 

But  to  make  an  assault,  meant  sure  death 
for  some  of  them,  and  not  a  man  there  was 
in  any  hurry  to  die. 

Courage  was  finally  plucked  up,  and  a  wild 
charge  was  made. 

Kit  saw  it  coming. 

"Be  ready,  boys!"  he  cried.  "Here  thev 
come!  When  they  get  near  enough  so  that 
you  can  be  sure  of  hitting  your  mark  le: 

"Ay,  ay  !"  came  the  hoarse  reply. 

A  minute,  and  then  four  shots  rang  out  in 
rapid  succession,  sending  two  men  headloti" 
to  thecal  th.  while   two   others  turned    tail 


poured  a  volley  into  the  hut. 

They  were  answered  by  the  revolvers  of 
Kit  and  his  men,  and  with  such  good  effect 
that  the  rebels  began  to  retreat. 

"The  backbone  ot  that  assault  is  broken,  I 
guess,"  remarked  Kit,  grimly. 

The  losses  suffered  by  the  rebs  infuriated 
them  to  that  degree  that  they  began  to  lose 
all  thoughts  of  personal  tear,  as  Kit  had 
shrewdly  suspected  might  be  the  case. 

"We're  in  for  it  now,"  he  said,  as  he 
watched  the  preparations  that  were  being 
made  for  a  new  attack.  "If  it  were  not  for 
the  fact  that  we  have  these  guerrillas  here 
with  us,  whom  they  do  not  wish  to  injure,  1 
am  afraid  it  would  go  hard  with  us  it  those 
devils  got  at  us." 

Consideration  alone  for  their  captive  com- 
rades checked  a  warfare  that  would  have 
approached  ferocity. 

The  Confederates,  but  for  the  fact  men- 
tioned, would  undoubtedly  have  burned  the 
building  around  our  hero"'s  ears,  eoiisie.niim 
him  and  his   companions  to  a  fearful  death. 

Now  they  had  secured  a  heavy  piece  of 
timber,  which  they  evidently  designed  usim.' 
as  a  battering  ram. 

Kit  was  very  grave. 

He  only  too  clearly  comprehended  the  ex- 
treme peril  in  which  they  stood. 

"We  must  be  ready,  boys,"  he  said,  the 
words  coining  with  a  liL-sin"  sound  from  be- 
tween his  set  teeth.  "They  must  not  be 
allowed  to  burst  in  the  door!  Five  to  one 
is  odds  that  we  cannot  stand  up  against  in  a 
hand  to  hand  struggle." 

"Suppose  we  do  prevent  their  bursting  in 
the  door?"  said  Sam. 

As  he  spoke  his  eyes  met  Kit's. 

"Suppose  we  do  ?"  returned  the  latter. 

"  What  is  to  be  the  end  ?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"  Is  there  any  hope  ?" 


"  You  want  an  honest  opinion  ?" 

"I  do." 

'^Then  I  believe  that  our  goose  is  cooked, 


squad  of  cavalrv  should  chance  to  come  this 
way." 

It  was  a  dismal  outlook. 

The  odds  were  against  a  party  of  the 
Federals  chancing  in  the  vicinity. 

The  very  despcratcuess  of  their  circum- 
tanees  made  a  tiger  of  each  man,  and  grind- 
ing their  teeth,  they  took  advantageous  posi- 
tions to  check  tie-  advancing  party  with  tho 


across  the  open  space  before  the  hut,  carry- 
ing the  heavy  timber,  one  stroke  of  which 
would  certainly  force  the  deor  off  its 
hinges. 

"The  Union  forever!"  cried  Kit,  and  then 
taking  hasty  aim.  pulled  the  trigger. 

Crack ! 

A  man  went  down. 

"The  Union  forever!"  hoarsely  yelled 
Kit's  companions,  and  then  three  more  shots 
rang  out. 

Each  shot  had  told. 

The  four  leading  men  had  bitten  the 
dust. 

The  unsupported  end  of  the  timber  fell 
heavily  to  the  ground,  jarring  those  in  the 
rear  so  suddenly  that  it  was  wrenched  from 
their  grasp,  and  the  heavy  log  lay  stretched 
on  the  ground. 

The  moment  the  revolvers  spoke,  the  rebs 
began  to  beat  a  retreat  again,  worsted, 
panic-stricken,  cuisine  ;,,  mad  fury. 

"If  we  can  only  keep  them  at  bay,"  mut- 
tered Kit,  as  a  new  thought  crossed  his 
mind.  "  If  we  only  can,  help  may  reach  us. 
This  firing  may  attract  attention  and  lead 
to  the  sending  of  a  force  of  cavalry  in  this 
direction." 

The  next  move  on  the  part  of  the  rebs  was 
to  send  a  man  forward,  beai  ing  a  flag  of 
truce. 

"What  do  you  want?"  demanded  Kit, 
when  the  man'haltcd  near  the  hut. 

"  I  have  come  to  demand  that  you  surren- 
der to  us,"  was  the  reply. 

Kit  laughed,  scornfully. 

"You  make  a  very  modest  request,"  he 
said,  sarcastically. 

"You  refuse  to  surrender,  then?" 

"Most  emphatically." 

"Are  you  a  ware  that  we  outnumber  you,  six 
to  one,  and  reinforcements  constantly  arriv- 
ing?" 

"I  am." 

"You  won't  surrender?" 

"No." 

"You  will  do  so  if  you  are  wise,"  urged 
the  messenger.  "  If  you  resist  longer,  why, 
when  you  are  taken,  you  will  be  fairly  eaten 
alive." 

"With  salt  and  pepper,  or  without?"  ask- 
ed Kit,  quietly,  causing  the  face  of  the  flag- 
bearer  to  purple  with  rage. 

"  \oti'll  sing  a  different  tune  presently," 
he  howled.     "  When  von   are  prisoners " 

"When  we  are,"  interrupted  Kit. 

"You   will  be  torn   limb  from  limb.     We 

"Then   come   and    take    us,"    again   inter- 
rupted Kit. 
"  We  mean  to  have  you,"  finished  the  flag- 


t    now    calmly   and 
taction  of  a  nag  of 

ass  insults,  and  unless 


white  handkerchief  attached,  which  had 
been  converted  into  a  flag  of  truce. 

"  I  guess  we  can  expect  some  fun  present- 
ly," remarked  Sam  to  himself. 

He  made  no  mistake. 

From  some  unknown  quarter  the  rebels 
had  fished  up  a  small  cannon,  a  field-piece, 
and  this  they  could  be  seen  planting  so  as  to 
bear  on  the  hut. 

In  then-  rage  and  mad  desire  to  capture  or 
kill  the  defiant  Yanks  all  thought  of  the 
safety  of  tic  guerrillas  within  the  hut  was 
lost  sight  of;  it  would  never  do  to  let  such 
plucky  and  determined  fellows  get  back  to 
their  commander  alive. 

"I'm  afraid  that  settles  us,"  said  Kit, 
soberly.  "Well,  I  shall  be  satisfied  to  die  if 
called  on  to  do  so,  for  I  know  that  I  have 
done  my  best." 

With  the  increase  of  their  peril  and  the 
growing  certainty  that  they  would  be 
slaughtered,  Sam  had  apparently  grown 
more  calm  and  careles-  a-  to  the  result. 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


Taking  a  fresh  chew  of  tobacco,  he  re- 
marked, as  he  thrust  it  into  his  cheek  with 
his  tongue : 

"I  can't  say  as  I'm  ready  to  kick  the 
bucket  yet.  I  want  to  have  the  pleasure  of 
killin'  a  few  more  of  them  Seeesh  first." 

In  spite  of  the  gravity  of  the  situation  Kit 
could  not  help  smiling. 

"  Sam  !"  he  cried,  a  new  idea  flashing  into 
his  mind. 

"What's  struck  you  now?" 

"Yourself  ami  the  hoys  must  fire  off  your 
muskets  at  short  intervals." 

"  But  the  rebs  are  too  far  away  to  be 
hit." 

"  I  know  it.  But  if  we  keep  up  a  contin- 
uous tiring  it  may  result  iu  drawing  a  squad 
of  cavalry  iu  this  direction  to  see  what  it 
means." 

Sam  nodded  approbation. 

"  But  they'll  have  to  get  here  might}' quick, 
'cause  once  that  cannon  gets  to  work  on  us 
these  quarters'll  get  to  lie  mighty  hot." 

At  short  intervals  during  the  next  few 
minutes  the  muskets  were  discharged,  be- 
ing aimed  at  the  distant  rebs,  vs  ho,  the  bul- 
lets falling  far  short,  uttered  derisive  cries. 

They  seemed  not  to  comprehend  the  real 
reason  why  these  shots  were  fired. 

At  last  the  cannon  was  ready. 

The  besieged  Unionists  saw  it  charged 
with  powder,  and  saw  the  large  stone  that 
was  put  iu  because  of  having  no  balls. 

One  moment  of  suspense  followed. 

Then  a  match  was  struck. 

It  was  placed  at  the  touch-hole. 

There  was  a  flash— then  a  huff  of  smo_e. 

Boom! 

Closely  following,  that  the  two  sonnds 
blended  in  Kit's  ears,  came  a  crash ! 

Then  from  the  throats  of  the  rebels  issued 
a  wild  cry  of  savage  delight. 

The  missile  which  had  been  ejected  from 
the  black  throat  of  tile  cannon  had  crashed 
through  the  door,  putting  a  hole  in  it  and 
splintering  it  badly. 

It  was,  in  fact,  a  wreck,  banging  loosely 
on  its  hinges. 

But  nobody  had  been  harmed,  and  Kit 
breathed  a  deep  sigh  of  relief. 

Once  again  the  engine  of  destruction  was 
loaded,  and  once  again  it  belched  forth  its 
flame  and  smoke  and  deadly  missile. 

Once  again  the  door  was  struck. 

A  wreck  already,  the  second  shot  demol- 
ished it  completely. 

Then  came  a  wild  yell. 

The  rebels  were  about  to  charge. 

"To  the  door  boys!"  yelled  Kit.  "Sam, 
you  take  the  right  hand  Mde,  and  I'll  take 
the  left." 

To  the  door  they  sprung. 

The  other  two  were  separated,  one  sup- 
porting Kit,  the  other  lending  Sam  the  as- 
sistance of  his  sturdy  arm. 

On  came  the  rebels,  with  a  rush  and  a 
blood-chilling  yell. 

"  Keep  cool,  boys,  and  make  every  shot 
count!"  cried  Kit;  and  he  and  the  others 
braced  themselves  for  the  coming  shock. 

Kit  did  not  wait  for  the  enemy  to  open  the 
ball. 

He  knew  the  virtue  of  having  the  first 
blow,  and  when  he  set  the  example  his  com- 
panions speedily  followed  suit. 

L'p  to  the  very  threshold  came  the  mad- 
dened rebs— but  no  further! 

There  they  were  held  in  check. 

Standing  a  little  aside  were  the  four  brave 
men,  out  of  the  line  of  the  rebel  fire,  but 
ready  to  send  to  his  last  account  each  man 
who  "dared  advance  across  the  threshold. 

At  last  their  revolvers  were  emptied. 

They  had  no  time  to  load  up. 

Their  muskets  could  not  be  used  at  such 
short  range  for  their  legitimate  purposes ; 
but  those  daring  valiant  men  seized  them  by 
the  barrels  and  used  them  as  clubs  with  ex- 
cellent results. 

"They  can't  shoot  any  more!"  yelled  one 
of  the  rebels  furthest  from  the  door.  "One 
grand  rush,  boys,  aud  you've  got  'era," 

Kit  was  pale  as  death. 

The  end  was  uow  close  at  baud. 

Inspired  by  these  practical  words  of  a  man 
who  himself  shirked  danger,  the  hardier  of 
the  rebels  made  a  combined  rush  through 
the  doorway. 

More  than  one  went  down  ;  but  the  brave 
defenders  could  not  cope  with  the  swarm 
that  came  pouring  in,  and  in  a  minute  more 
Kit  and  his  men  would  have  been  hurled  into 
eternity  but  for  a  sudden  irv  that  went  up 
from  the  throats  of  those  who  remained  out- 
side. 

"The  cavalry  are  coming!" 

That  was  the  unexpected  cry  which  put 
a  new  aspect  on  the  face  of  affairs. 

That  was  the  cry  which  caused  the  Con- 
federates to  pause,  even    on    the    point    of 


The  hands  clutching  cocked  and  ready  re- 
volvers fell  to  the  sides  of  their  owners. 

Every  man  caught  his  breath. 

Assaulters  and  assaulted  bent  their  heads 
to  listen. 

There  could  be  no  mistaking  the  sound 
which  floated  to  their  ears,  each  second 
growing  louder  aud  more  distinct  as  it  swept 
closer  and  closer. 

It  was  the  rushing  tramp  of  horses'  feet,  as 


a  body  of  cavalry  came  swoepiiu:  along. 

With  a  wild  cry  . 
plunged  for  the  do 


rild  cry  of  baffled  rage,  the  rebels 


Hurry— hurry !"  screamed  those  outside. 
"They're  coining  like  the  wind;  there's  no 
time  to  spare!" 

A  panic  seized  the  rebels,  and  they  shriek- 
ed and  groaned  aud  cursed  as  they  tied, 
completely  forgetting  the  vengeance  they 
bad  sw. nil  against  four  of  that  armed  foe 
which  had  invaded  their  country. 

All  thought  of  those  four  men' had  fled. 

Vengeance  was  forgotten. 

They  only  knew  that  a  superior  force  was 
at  hand  and  that  they  must  seek  safety  in 
flight. 

Pell-mell  they  rushed  toward  the  horses, 
and  every  man  who  was  able  to  mount  was 
soon  soufryingaway  across  country  as  if  Old 
Nick  himself  was  in  pursuit. 

As  Kit  had  hoped  would  be  the  case  the 
liring  had  been  heard. 

At  first  no  attention  had  been  paid  to  it, 
but,  when  it  continued,  an  order  had  been 
given  to  investigate  its  cause. 

The  cavalry  commander  did  not  think  it 
worth  while  "to  pursue  the  fleeing  men. 

The  dead  and  wounded  he  left  where  they 
were,  to  be  cared  for  by  their  friends. 

Kit-and  his  companions,  each  of  whom  had 
a  wound  to  commemorate  the  occasion,  re- 
gained their  horses,  and,  under  escort  of  the 
cavalry,  went  back  to  camp,  carrying  with 
them  the  guerrillas  captured  in  the  ravine 

The  cannon  which  had  done  the  rebels 
such  good  service,  although  worth  nothing 
much  save  as  old  iron,  was  also  taken  along 
as  a  trophy. 

Great  was  the  meed  of  praise  awarded  Kit 
for  bis  gallant  recouuoiteriug  expedition, 
and  his  commander  personally  thanked  him 
for  the  valuable  information  concerning  the 
ravine. 

night   Kit   was   si 

!  made  to    recount 


CHAPTER  IV. 

FORT     DO  NELSON. 

The  month  was  February— not  the  Febru- 
ary of  our  Northern  states,  but  still  cold  and 
iaw  and  disagreeable. 

( In  the  tenth  of  that  month  Foote's  flotilla 
opeued  Are  on  Fort  Donelson. 

A  steady  stream  of  shot  and  shell  poured 
into  the  fort,  and  in  two  hours  their  batter- 
ies were  silenced. 

Many  of  the  infantry  (the  land  force)  grat- 
ed their  teeth  with  anger  when  the  fort  no 
longer  returned  the  fire. 

"  By  gum  !"  grunted  our  friend  Sam,  "if 
that  ain't  too  bad  I  don't  know  what  is. 
Here  the  fort's  silenced  and  practically 
taken  without  us  fellows  gettintr  even  a  crack 
at  'em." 

"Don't  get  uneasy,"  was  Kit's  quiet  re- 
joinder.    "This  thing  ain't  over  yet." 

Nor  was  it. 

The  batteries  that  were  silenced  opened 
fire  again,  aud  so  furious  and  fast  did  they 
send  forth  their  shrieking  shot  and  shell  that 
the  flotilla  was  compelled  to  retire. 

"Forward !" 

The  order  came  at  last. 

To  the  men  who  had  been  under  fire,  who 
knew  something  of  the  horrorsofbattle.it 
was  the  cause  of  gravity. 

But  among  those  who  fancied  that  they 
bad  some  child's  play  to  perform,  as  many 
of  the  new  recruits  did,  there  was  much 
laughter  and  merriment. 

That  night  they  bivouacked  on  the  bare 
ground. 

They  were  in  fighting  trim,  but  bad  no 
supply  of  rations,  and  many  a  man  went 
hungry  that  night,  as  will  be  testilied  to  by 
many  a  hoary  veteran  who  took  part  iu  that 
conflict— which  thousands  believe  was  the 
turning  point  of  the  war. 

It  was  very  cold,  and  they  were  not 
allowed  to  build  fires,  as  a  consequence  of 
which  the  sufferings  of  many  of  the  gallant 
fellows  were  greater  than  pen  can  describe. 

To  hav"  laid  down  to  sleep  all  uight  might 


have  been  to  invite  a  death  by  freezing,  so 

they  slept  and  watched  by  groups,  changing 
every  hour  or  so,  the  waked  one  trotting  uji 
aud  down  to  keep  the  blood  in  circulation. 

Ye  heroes  of  Fort  Donelson ! 

Your  praises  have  never  been  sung  as  they 
should  be,  and  we  are  thankful  that  it  is 
within  our  power  to  pay  even  so  humble  a 
tribute  as  ours. 

On  the  morning  of  the  eleventh,  at  day- 
break, a  heavy  force  of  rebel  infantry  rushed 
out  upon  the  right  wing  of  the  Union  army. 

The  onset  was  terrible.  It  was  sublime — 
grand  beyond  description. 

Like  an  avalanche  came  the  grays  full  of 
fire,  impetuous,  flushed  with  the  memory  of 
past  victories,  determined  to  add  another  to 
the  list. 

On  they  came  with  that  wild  yell  which 
struck  terror,  when  first  heard,  into  the 
heart  of  the  new  recruit. 

Aud  the  boys  in  blue.    Where  were  they? 

They  were  in  their  places. 

Ay,  riug  it  forth  to  the  honor  and  glory 
of  the  Union  boys  before  Fort  Donelson— 
they  were  in  their  places,  and  there  they 
stood  like  rocks! 

Many  were  so  numb  and  stiff  from  the  in- 
tense cold  of  the  past  night,  spent  un- 
sheltered on  the  frozen  earth,  that  for  a 
time  they  could  scarcely  move,  and  could 
not  handle  their  muskets. 

But  they  could  stand. 

And  stand  they  did,  aud  breasted  the  shock 
of  that  seeiuiuglj  irresistible  tide  of  gray 
that  had  come  with  a  rush  and  yet  with  a 
precision  of  movement  that  was  majestic. 

A}-,  they  breasted  the  shock,  and  it  started 
the  chilled  blood,  it  caused  their  hearts  to 
beat  more  rapidly,  it  limbered  their  limbs,  it 
took  the  numbness  from  their  Angers. 

And  then 

A  word  to  steady  them  ! 

"Make  ready!     Aim!     Fire!" 

Then  a  deadly  volley  of  musketry  came 
—a  volley  which  made  gaps  in  the  close 
ranks  of  gray. 

( >uce   again    the    orders   were  given,  and 


ably  handled,  aud  the  thousands  of  bullets 
they  belched  forth  laid  many  a  man  prone 
on  the  earth  never  to  rise  again. 

It  was  fearful  to  behold. 

Again  and  again— and  oh !  how  gallantly 
the  Confederates  charged. 

Again  aud  again  were  they  met  by  that. 
immovable  phalanx  of  the  boys  in  blue. 


"  Forward  I 

Forward  went  the  boys  in  blue. 

Not  far,  to  be  sure. 

They  gained  a  little,  and  held  it  while  they 
threw  out  their  breasts  and  received  anoth- 
er of  those  grand  but  fruitless  charges  of 
their  enemies  in  gray. 

The  grays  repulsed— once  again  came  the 
command : 

"Forward!" 

Forward  they  went  again. 

Foot  by  foot  they  went  again;  and  at  last 
the  invincible  blues  were  left  possessors  of 
the  field. 

The  first  blow  for  the  capture  of  Fort 
Donelson  bad  been  struck. 

For  a  short  space,  a  few  brief  hours,  there 
was  a  lull  iu  the  tempest,  and  the  leaden 
hurricane  of  death  was  unheard. 

Then  a  courier  dashed  over  the  field. 

He  bore  a  message  from  Grant  to  Smith 
in  command  of  the  left  wing. 

It  was  brief: 

'Tarry  the  enemy's  intrenchments  by  assault." 

It  was  to  the  point. 

No  provision  had  been  made  for  such  a 
thing  as  failure. 

It  must  be  accomplished. 

And  then,  steady,  with  even  tread,  th* 
lines  moved  forward. 

The  desultory  firing  ceased. 

Spellbound,  everybody  watched  the  lines 
of  blue  as  they  moved  steadily  onward— on- 
ward—onward— for  some  never  to  come 
back. 

And,  beyond  the  heavy  thud,  as  the  even 
tread  came  upon  the  earth,  there  crept  over 
everything  a  deep  and  solemn  hush. 

It  lasted  only  a  brief  space — only  until  the 
boys  in  blue  drew  near  enough*  to  be  fired 
upon. 

Then  the  silence  was  disturbed  by  a  terrible 
sound— the  crack  of  a  thousand  muskets 
and  the  demoniac  shriek  of  as  many  musket 
balls,  whistling  and  whizzing  through  the 
air  at  the  same  time. 

Now  gaps  were  made  in  the  ranks  of  the 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


Marching  beside  Sam  was  oue  of  those 
who  had  accompanied  Kit  and  himself  on 
the  scouting  expedition. 

At  the  first  fire  lie  went  down. 

A  bullet  had  entered  his  brain. 

Sam  ground  his  teeth,  tire  flashed  from 
his  eyes;  and  his  lips  were  grimly  closed  and 
rem  pressed. 

And  when  the  order  came  to  fire  no  man 
was  sooner  to  respond  than  was  Sam. 

Again  and  again  were  deadly  volleys 
pinned  into  that  devoted   band  of   brothers 

Again  and  again  were  huge  gaps  left  in 
the  lilies.  And,  again  and  ngam,  were  they 
ilosed  up. 
to  shoulder  the  gallant  fellows 
shoved  ahead,  until  they  stood  close  to  the 
intreuehments  they  had  come  to  capture. 

"Charge!" 

At  last  this  order  came. 

Then  forward — as  if  shot  from  some  tre- 
mendous catapult. 

Now  came  the  hand  to  hand  battle. 

The  slaughter  was  terrible. 

Men  were  swept  away  like  chaff. 

Oue  after  another  the  officers  had  fallen; 
hut  still  those  heroes  battled  on,  each  man 
an  officer  unto  himself. 

Then  came  a  wild  cry. 

It  was  from  Union  throats,  and  proclaimed 
victory. 

The  defeated  rebels  heard  ;the  cry,  and  it 
roused  iu  them  a  frenzy  that  for  the  moment 
swept  away  all  fear. 

They  turned,  then  formed  aud  back  they 
came  to  renew  the  struggle  on  top  of  the 
breastworks, 

Desperate  and  reckless,  they  fought  like 
very  devils;  aud  along  that  line  of  blue  there 
was  seen  a  wavering  and  uncertainty. 

They  looked  from  one  to  another. 

No  voice  encouraged  them. 

No  officer  was  near  to  lend  his  voice  to  in- 
spirit them. 

The  officers  were  not  shirking  their  duty. 
Ah— no— no!  They  weresilent  only  because 
they  could  not  speak,  because  they  laid  dead 
or  dying  in  the  intrenchments  they  had 
come  to  capture. 

Could  it  be? 

Were  the  boys  iu  blue  to  lie  driven  back 
now  for  want  of  some  noble  fellow  to  fling 
himself  in  the  reach  and  cry : 

"Stand  your  ground,  boys;  it  is  the  last 
gasp  of  desperate  men!" 

Such  was  not  to  be. 

"The  Union  forever!" 

A  clarion  voice  rang  out  this  battle-cry, 
aud  hoarse  voices  caught  it  up,  and  in  a 
great  volume  vent  up  the  cry: 

"The  Union  forever?" 

And  then  to  the  front  sprung  a  tall  com- 
manding fin  are  and  those  who  recognized 
him  uttered  a  wild  shout  of  joy. 

"Kit.  from  Kentucky  1" 

It  was  indeed  Kit  Langdon. 

"Hurrah!"  he  yelled. 

And  the  men  caught  up  the  cry  as  they 
had  caught  up  the  other,  and  there  came  a 

"Hurrah!" 

"Now,  strike  for  the  Union— strike  for  the 
stars  and  stripes— strike  for  victory.  For- 
ward!" 

Madly,  Mindly,  they  lull,, wed  his  lead. 

Tiny' were  irresistible. 

The' 


New  reinforcements  were  thrown  forward, 
and  the  captured  point  made  secure  beyond 
recapture. 

Now  came  the  attack  at  the  center. 

Here  again  the  boys  m  blue  met  and  drove 
back  as  gallant  a  foe  as  ever  opposed  an 
armed  force. 

The  darkness  of  night  closed  in  once  more 
—a  night  like  the  preceding,  when  the  brave 
and  gallant  boys  iu  blue,  in  spile  of  their  fa- 
tigue, were  compelled  lor  the  most  part  to 
keep  awake  and  stirring  because  of  the  un- 
usually iutense  cold. 

But,  although  what  sleep  they  obtained 
was  on  the  fr,,/eii  earth,  with  no  shelter  save 


the  sky  above  their   heads,   the  breaking  of 
day  did  not  find  them  dispirited. 
On  the  contrary  they  were  full  of  enthusi 


asm,  and  only  wanted  the  word  of  command 
to  do  and  dafe  anything. 

Gallant  hoys  of  Fort  Donelson! 

The  names  of  each  and  all  of  you  should 
be  inscribed  in  letters  of  gold,  where  all  the 
world  might  read  and  learn  the  names  of  as 
gallant  men  as  ever  battled  for  right,  truth 
and  honor ! 

There  was  one  there  deserving  of  special 
remembrance. 


It  was  Kit,  from  Kentucky. 

He  was  ordered    to    be  promoted  on  the 

field  of  battle  as  a  fitting  reward  for  his  gal- 
lant assumption  of  the  lead  at  a  moment 
when  the  absence  of  a  leader  might  have  re- 
sitted in  a  failure  to  hold  theintreiiclimeiits, 
to  obtain  which  so  much  blood  had  been 
shed. 

Modestly,  and  like  his  own  true  self.  Kit 
accepted  the  acknowledgment  of  his  meri- 
torious action,  but  declined  the  office  to 
which  it  was  desired  to  raise  him. 

"I  would  rather  be  in  the  ranks,"  he  had 
answered,  when  an  objection  was  raised 
against  his  refusal.  "I  trust  I  am  a  good 
private,  and  I  would  rather  remain  such 
than  run  the  risk  of  being  a  poor  officer." 

"  Of  which,  Heaven  knows,  there  are 
enough  in  the  service,"  said  the  commis- 
sioned officer  who  had  been  sent  to  see  him. 

Kit's  earnest  nesss  was  not  to  be  mistaken, 
and  his  desires  were  complied  with  in  that 
he  was  not  forced  into  taking  a  position  he 
did  not  covet,  aud  in  fact  was   averse  to  uc- 


eptiug. 
A  few 


few  days  passed. 

Hernial  Grant —  clear-headed,  bull-dog 
Grant— had  made  all  his  dispositions  for  a 
grand  attack,  which  all— Confederates  aud 
Union  men— foresaw  meant  the  fall  of  Fort 
Donelson. 

The  morning  of  the  sixteenth  of  February 
dawned. 

Everything  was  in  readiness  for  the  at- 
tack. 

Then  came  a  messenger  from  the  fort. 

The  Confederate  commander,  General 
Buckner,  had  asked  for  an  armistice  pending 
terms  of  capitulation.* 

There  was  no  waste  of  time  in  framing  a 
reply.  It  was  in  a  few  words,  and  very  much 
to  the  point : 

"No  terms  except  unconditional  and  immediate 
surrender  can  be  accepmlili'-  1  re, peso  t<.  1,1, .,-,■  im- 
mediately on  your  works.  U.  S.  Grant." 

Would  the  rebels  surrender  as  they  de- 
manded? 

A  brief  time  was  given  for  reply. 

It  came  at  the  last  moment  of  grace. 

General  Buckner,  who  had  been  left  in 
com ina ml  by  t  lie  High!  up  t lie  river  of  Flovd 
and  Pillow  during  the  night,  could  not  ip 
himself,  and  he  was  forced  to  surrender  at 
discretion. 

Such  was  the  tenor  of  the  reply. 

Then  up  rose  such  a  cheer  as  "never  before 
was  heard,  as  the  news  traveled  down  the 
lines. 

The  effect  was  electrical  throughout  the 
country,  aud  even  in  Europe  those  who 
were  secretly  in  sympathy  with  the  South 
thought  it  wise  to  deal  with  the  rebels  more 
circumspectly  for  the  future. 

History  tells  us  that  with  the  surrender  of 
Fort  Douelson  there  were  not  far  from  fifteen 
thousand  prisoners,  counting  the  wounded, 
seventeen  heavy  guns,  forty  field  pieces,  and 
a  great  amount  of  supplies  aud  munitions  of 
war. 

In  the  newspaper  accounts  of  the  affair  ap- 
peared 1li«  names  of  many  of  the  heroes  en- 
gaged iu  the  affray.  Ki't  Langdou's  name 
was  not  infrequently  mentioned,  lbitamong 
all  who  in  print  received  a  share  of  tin-glory, 
there  was  not  one  who  bore  his  honors  more 
modestly  than  Kit,  from  Kentucky. 


CHAPTER  V. 

IN   THE   MOUNTAINS. 

Meanwhile,  how  fared  those  loved  ones 
whom  Kit  had  left  behind  ? 

Were  they  as  safe  aud  secure  in  their 
mountain  retreat  as  Kit  could  wish  them  to 
be? 

To  answer  these  questions  we  must  turn 
back  to  the  tinie'when  Kit  bade  them  good- 
by  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  and  sought 
his  own  safety  in  immediate  (light,  leaving 
them  under  the  care  of  his  gallant  but  mis- 
guided brother,  who  had  cast  his  fortunes 
with  the  South. 

It  was  a  very  sad  party  that  ascended  the 
mountains  oil  that  night  on  which  our 
story  opens. 

As  a  clergyman,  Mr.  Langdon  was  natur- 
ally 

and  gallant  sons  had  seen  it  to  be  their  duty 
to  take  up  arms  in  the  great  conflict. 

He  could  have  borne  it  more  easily  had 
both  espoused  what  he  considered  the  cause 
of  humanity— viz:  the  Uniou  army. 

He  had  no  word  of  reproach  for  Ben  be- 
cause he  had  joined  the  Conlederates. 


,  have  discretion  to  i 


lie  believed  in  living  up  to  principles,  and 
bad  Hen  believed  the  South  to  be  in  the 
right,  and  then  had  fought  against  it,  the 
stern  side  of  the  old  man's  character  would 
have  come  into  view,  and  he  would  have  at 
once  disowned  Ben. 

Although  he  honored  aud  respected  both 
of  his  sons  for  acting  so  true  to  their  princn- 
ples,  this  fact  could  not  rob  of  its  horror  tl  e 
knowledge  that  they  had  espoused  different 
sides,  that  each  in  battle  would  practicalh 
seek  the  other's  blood. 

As  for  the  gentle  mother,  she  was  grieved 
and  saddened  to  her  very  heart's  core. 

Her  convictions  as  to  the  right  or  wrong 
in  the  great  struggle  were  not  so  clearly  de- 
lined  as  her  husband's,  and  she  looked  more 
to  the  result  as  to  her  loved  boys  than  to  the 
success  or  defeat  of  either  army. 

She  loved  her  boys  equally  well,  and  she 
could  not  honestly  express  a  wish  that  either 
North  or  South  should  win,  although  as  Mr. 


I.angdo 


with  the  North 


she  naturally  inclined  that  way. 
As  for  Belle,  pretty,   high-spii 
her  sentiments  were  true  blue,  even  though 


jirited  Belle, 


there  was  one  in  the  rebel  army  whose  wife 
she  some  day  expected  to  be. 

So  it  was  a  sad  party  that  went  up  into  the 
wilds  of  the  mountains  that  night. 

As  last  the  way  grew  so  rough  that  the 
rays  of  the  moonlight  were  insufficient,  and 
they  halted  for  the  double  purpose  of  rest- 
ing and  awaiting  the  coming  of  day. 

When  it  had  dawned,  they  resumed  their 
wearying  journey,  made  more  tiresome  by 
the  fact  that  each  of  them  bore  some  neces- 
sary articles. 

At  last,  late  in  the  afteruoou,  they  reached 
a  little  valley,  about  two  hundred  feet  in 
width  and  a  thousand  in  length. 

Here  Ben  decided  that  they  should  re- 
main, as  a  good  spring  near  by  would  fur- 
nish an  ample  supply  of  water. 

Axes  were  at  once  put  to  work,  aud  in  less 
than  a  week  a  rude  shelter— a  hut  made  of 
rudely  dressed  logs— had  been  constructed. 

As  everybody  in  that  section  of  Kentucky 
had  done,  Mr.  Langdon  liau  owned  some 
negroes. 

Years  before  he  had  practically  given 
them  their  freedom. 

He  had  called  them  to  him  oue  by  one  and 
had  told  them  that  when  they  worked  out 
their  purchase  price  they  should  be  free  ; 
and  that  they  might  remain  and  work  fol- 
ium at  regular  wages,  and  he  would  credit 
them  with  their  earnings,  or  they  might 
work  for  somebody  else  and  pay  him  what 
they  could  as  they  i, I, lained  it. 

They  had  always  had  a  good  home,  had 
been  treated  kindly,  aud  all  had  remained 
with  the  Langdons,  and  uever  were  human 
beings  more  faithful  than  the  four  negroes- 
two  men  and  two  women- were  to  that  kind 
family. 

Nobly  they  did  their  share  now. 

While  Ben  aud  Mr.  Langdon  constructed 
the  hut,  the  men— the  watch  having  been 
withdrawn  from  the  parsonage  when  it  was 
fouud  that  the  bird  hud  flown— brought  to 
the  mountains  several  wagon  loads  of  furni- 
ture anil  agricultural  implements,  and  such 
other  things  as  were  needed. 

Then,  retaining  one  man  aud  one  woman, 
Mr.  Langdon  gave  the  other  two  papers 
showing  that  they  were  free,  and  bade  them 
go  North  into  Ohio. 

It  was  then  too  lateiu  the  season  to  attempt 
to  till  the  earth,  but  Mr.  Langdon  made 
what  preparations  he  could  to  pass  the  win- 
ter comfortably  there  in  the  mountains. 

Ben  remained  as  long  as  he  could,  and  then 
sadly  bade  them  good-by. 

"Good-by,  mother,"  he  said,  his  voice 
husky  with  emotion. 

He  put  his  arm  gently  about  her  waist, 
and  pressed  her  long  and  lovingly  to  his 
heart. 

"Good-by,  my  boy,"  she  returned,  with 
the  tears  coursing  down  her  cheeks.  "  Heaveu 
guard  over  and  preserve  you  to   return  to 

"  Amen,"  he  said,  solemnly. 


fairly  in  the  face  "  if  it  should  be  that 
you  do  not  come  back— if  we  should  never 
ineet  again  on  earth— you  will  meet  me 
there .'" 

she  pointed  upward  and  raised  ker  eyes. 

"  With  God's  help,  1  will,"  he  said,  in  a 
tone  as  solemn  as  her  own. 

Then  he  kissed  her  hastily  and  went  out- 
side. 

Just  beyond  the  door  he  found  his  fathers, 
and  silently  their  hands  met. 

It  was  a  silence  more  eloquent  than  words. 

For  a  full  minute  they  stood  thus,  their 
hands    clasped,   looking  steadily    into    eacii 


1HE  WAR  LIERABY. 


other's  eves,  and  then  they  as  silently  un- 
clasped their  hands  and  separated. 

Perhaps  for  a  little,  while — perhaps  for- 
ever ! 

Ben  glanced  about  him. 

Where  was  Belle  ? 

He  could  see  nothing  of  her  near  the  house, 
ami  moved  slowly  away  in  the  direction  he 
must  take  to  get  out  of  the  mountain. 

He  knew  his  sister  too  well  to  believe  that 
she  would  evade  the  parting,  and  lie  judged 
that  he  would  find  her  waiting  for  him  not 
far  away. 

He  was  right. 

He  had  said  good-by  to  the  negroes,  and 
hail  passed  out  of  sight  of  the  house,  when 
he  oame  upon  Belle. 

"I  ha      ' 
thegirl, 

'•  1  knew  I  should  hud  you  somewhere,"  he 
said,  as  he  paused  in  trout  of  her  and  took 
both  of  her  hands  in  his  own. 

"  You  must  go,  Ben?" 

"Yes." 

"You  believe  the  South  right?" 

"I  do." 

"  After  sober  reflection?" 

"Ay,  after  sober  reflection." 

"  Then  go,  my  brother !  Do  your  duty  as 
you  seeit,  and  i  will  always  love  and  respect 
you.  But,  oh  !  how  much  happier  I  should 
be  were  you  going  to  fight  side  by  side  with 
Kit,  instead  of  against  him." 

"Regrets  an- useless,  in v  dear  sister.  The 
die  is  east.  Let  God  decide  between  the 
North  and  the  South." 

"  And  if  he  decides  against  vou,  will  you 
accept  the  result  cheerfully,  and  without 
bitterness  of  heart?" 

•'I  will.  I  swear  itlto  you,  little  sister.  If 
God  rules  that  the  North  shall  win  in  this 
struggle  I  will  permit  myself  to  harbor  no 
feeling'  of  bitterness,  but  will  bend  myself  to 
His  will." 

"You  have  lightened  my  heart,  Ben.  I 
feel  now  that  1  can  let  you  go." 

"And,  Belle,  there  is  another " 

He  paused  and  gazed  down  on  her  sweet 
wistful  face,  half  curiously,  half  tenderly. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  gravely. 

•'  We  may  meet." 

"  ion  will  cheer  and  help  each  other?" 

"  Of  course  we  shall.  But,  Belle,  in  case  I 
see  Harry  Bi  iggs,  have  you  no   message  you 


,  save  this:  That,  if  lie  has  taken  up 
inst  his  country  because  he  believes 
the  call  of   duty,   I  forgive  him  as 

Irave  you  no  word  of  love  to  send  ? 
you.  Belle,  aud  loves  you  still,  with 
r'pussing  great." 
dm  1  shall  wait  for  him." 
[hat is  all?" 


Ami 


"  And  for  myself?" 

"My  blessing  go  with  you,  Ben;  and  when 
the  war  is  ended,  God  grant  you  may  re- 
turn with  no  bitterness  in  your  heart  toward 
the  victorious  North  " 

"  You're  a  rank  Unionist." 

"  I  am." 

"  Well,  we'll  not  quarrel.     Good-by." 

"  Good-by,  Ben." 

As  she  littered  the  last  adieu  her  voice 
broke,  and  he  could  feel  her  trembling  like  a 
leaf. 

Silently  he  pressed  her  to  his  heart. 

When  he  would  have  released  her  he  saw 
that  she  was  so  overcome  by  emotion  that 
she  could  not  stand  ;  so  he  gently  deposited 
her  on  the  grassy  bank,  aud  without  another 
word  strode  awav. 

After  a  minute  or  so  she  struggled  to  her 
feet,  aud  watched  his  receding  figure  with 
a  loving  gaze. 

When  he  had  disappeared,  she  turned  and 
went  slowly  toward  the  new  house,  a  home 
destined  to  be  the  theater  of  many  exciting 
scenes  in  the  mouth  to  come. 

In  less  than  a  week  after  Ben's  departure 
they  had  company  in  the  mountains. 

Other  families  of  Union  tendencies  were 
forced  to  flee  to  the  mountains  for  safety, 
and,  indeed,  it  was  only  a  short  while  before 
the  hills  and  valleys  were  quite  thickly  popu- 
lated. 

This  gave  room  for  the  operations  of  those 
bands  of  guerrillas,  which,  more  than  the 
regular  armies,  supply  the  most  horrible 
features  of  a  war,  in  the  name  of  which  they 
prey  on  friend  and  foe  alike. 

It  was  not  long  before  news  of  the  little 
settlement  in  the  mountains  reached  the 
ears  of  one  of  the  lesser  guerrilla  chiefs— by 
uame  Buck  Toole. 

One  day  in  December,  when  the  snow  was 
on  the  ground,  he  suddenly  appeared  in  the 
settlement  with  his  rascally  followers— num- 
bering about  a  dozen. 


Itwasasmall  nana,  lint  sufficient!}  largo 
to  hold  in  terror  the  women  aud  children. 
who  for  the  most  part  comprised  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  spot. 

The  men— husbands  and  fathers— had  gone 
to  the  trout,  after  conveying  their  families 
iuto  the  mountains  for  greater  safety. 

There  were  only  three  grown  men,  includ- 
ing Mr.  Langdoii,  within  a  circuit  of  a  mile. 
There  were  a  half  dozen  or  more  of  vigorous 
fourteen  and  fifteen  year  old  boys,  but  they 
did  not  count  for  much  at  such  a  time. 

So,  when  Buck  Toole  made  his  appearance 
on  that  day  iu  December  he  found  himself 
master  of  'the  situation,  for  no  blow  could 
be  struck  in  its  defense. 

In  gruff  tones  he  commanded  the  families 
there  to  shelter  his  men,  aud  give  them  the 
best  to  eat  and  drink  that  they  had. 

"For,"  said  he,  "we're  going  to  stay  with 
you  a  few  days,  and  it's  just  as  well  to  have 
us  your  friends  as  your  enemies." 

The  men  were  divided  around  among  the 
different  families. 

Buck  Toole  coolly  quartered  himself  on 
the  minister. 

Mr.  Langdon  very  calmly  saw  his  ap- 
proach, aud  very  calmly  acquiesced  when 
Toole  stated  his  intention  of  quartering 
there. 


Toole,  believing  this  quietness  was  cow- 
.rdice,  went  inside  and  flinging  himself  into 
,  chair,  lifted  his  heels  and  put  them  on  the 


tabli 

"  Take  down  your  feet!" 

Buck  Toole  was  surprised. 

Could  that  firm  and  menacing  voice  issue 
from  the  minister's  lips? 

"Takedown  yourfeet!" 

There  was  a  gleam  in  the  minister's  eye 
that  Buck  did  not  like. 

He  dropped  his  feet. 

Then  he  opened  his  mouth,  and  an  oath 
half  crossed  his  lips,  when  a  voice  sternly  in- 
terrupted : 

"  Stop  now— stop  !" 

"  Who're  you  orderin'  ?" 

"You." 

"  Why,  do  you  dare " 

"Yes,  I  dare." 

"Boss  me?" 

"  Yes,  within  my  own  walls." 

"Why,  what  could  vou  do?" 

"Do?" 

"Yes — do." 

"Try  me,  and  you  may  find  out  to  your 
disgust,"  Mr.  Langdon  quietly  said. 

Buck  felt  uncomfortable. 

( If  true  courage  lie  did  not  possess  a  parti- 
cle, but  he  was  chock  full  of  bravado,  and  in 
the  eyes  of  his  men  was  a  perfect  lion. 


Aud  why  ?    He  could  not  tell 

Mr.  Langdoii  was  not  the  highest  type  of 
a  muscular  man,  yet  he  had  a  frame  aud 
build  that  induced"  respect  fur  his  muscles. 

After  that  "try  me"  of  Mr.  Langdon's, 
Buck  forced  a  laugh  that  was  intended  to 
imply  a  contempt  for  the  other's  words. 

About  half  an  hour  later,  Belie  came  from 
the  back  room  for  the  purpose  of  setting  the 
tabic  for  the  afternoon  meal. 

Years  before,  when  Belle  was  a  child, 
Buck  had  seen  her,  and  had  been  quite  cap- 
tivated by  her,  aud  his  unholy  eyes  no 
sooner  rested  upon  her  on  this  day  than  he 
resolved  that  he  would  use  his  power  to 
force  her  to  become  his  wife. 

While  he  watched  her  as  she  went  to  and 
fro,  and  developed  plans  in  his  mind,  she 
finished  preparations  for  the  meal. 

"We  are  ready  now,  father,"  she  at  last 
said. 

"Then,  let  us  pray." 

As  Mr.  Langdon  spoke  he  knelt  down  be- 
side his  chair,  a  movement  that  was  copied 
by  his  wife  aud  daughter,  as  well  as  the 
negro  woman  iu  the  kitchen  that  had  been 
extended  at  the  back. 

All  knelt  save  Buck. 

Mr.  Langdoii  looked  at  Buck  keenly. 

The  latter  fidgetted,  but  sat  still. 

"  Kneel!"  said  theminister. 

Buck  folded  his  arms  aud  settled  himself 
sullenly  into  his  chair. 

"Kneel!" 

"  I  won't." 

"  Then  go  outdoors  until  my  prayer  is  fin- 
ished." 

to  the  cold?" 


••  Y. 


kne 


"I  won't." 

Slowly  rose  Mr.  Langdon. 

He  spat  on  his  hands,  rubbed  them  to- 
gether, reached  out  and  took  Buck  by  the 
collar  and  yanked  him  toward  the  door. 

Belle    opened    it,    and  the  next  moment 


Buck    was   sprawling  in   the  snow   outside. 

The  door  closed,  and  when  Buck  appeared 
it  was  to  hear  the  parsou's  voice  raised  in 
prayer,  as  calmly  as  though  nothing  had 
happened 

Prudence  and  policy  combined  to  cause 
Buck  to  take  his  treatment  as  a  good  joke 
instead  of  getting  augr\  about  it.  He  could 
easily  have  shot  and  killed  Mr.  Langdon  but 
did  not  wish  to  do  so;  aud  he  stood  outside 
until  he  heard  the  "  Amen  "  said,  and  then 
he  entered. 

A  place  had  been  made  for  him  at  the 
table,  and  he  took  it  with  a  laugh  : 

"  You're  a  lighting  parson,  I  see?"  he  said. 

"  In  case  of  need  I  can  use  the  strength 
which  God  has  given  me,"  was  the  quiet  re- 
ply- 

"  I've  seen  you  use  it  before,"  said  Buck. 
"  I  remember  a  good  many  years  ago,  when 
I  used  tolivein  the  village'  where  y.m  preach- 
ed, that  I  saw  you  put  a  man  out  of  church. 
He  was  flourishing  a  brace  of  pistols,  and 
every  man  there  was  afraid  to  tackle  him." 

Buck  laughed  heartily  at  the  recollection, 
but  he  had  the  laugh  all  to  himself,  for  none 
of  the  others  joined  in. 

About  all  the  conversation  that  was  car- 
ried on  was  by  Buck  and  to  himself.  They 
evidently  did  not  wisli  to  talk  with  him,  anil 
were  so  little  afraid  of  his  power  that  they 
would  not  do  other  than  they  wished. 

This  chafed  and  fretted  the  rascal. 

He  kept  himself  within  bounds  by  the  re- 
flection : 

"  I'll  have  my  laugh  last,  when  beautiful 
Belle  is  Mrs.  Toole." 

The  villain  was  no  fool,  and  he  knew  that 
it  would  be  better  for  him  could  he  gain  his 
point  without  the  use  of  violence. 

He  acted  the  most  frank  aud  agreeable 
part  he  could,  hoping  that  he  might  win  his 
way  to  the  hearts  of  his  hosts. 

He  ventured  once  or  twice  to  bend  on 
Belle  a  look  of  admiration. 

"A  woman's  always  grateful  for  an  ad- 
miring look,  even  from  a  man  she  hates,"  he 
had  told  himself. 

To  his  surprise,  Belle  was  far  from  appre- 
ciating the  compliment.  She  became  act- 
ually frigid  at  once. 

Buck  saw  that  he  was  not  progressing  fa- 
vorably, gnawed  his  fiercely-bristling  mus- 
tache, and  decided  on  a  plan. 

Rising  and  bowing  v>  ilh  all  the  grace  pos- 
sible, he  thanked  them  fortheentertaiuinent 
afforded  him,  and  added  : 

"  My  purpose  here  to-day— I  tell  you  in 
confidence — was  to  protect  you.  Word  had 
reached  me  that  a  gang  of  rascals  were  plan- 
ning an  attack,  and  I  and  my  men  came  to 
help  drive  back  the  dastards." 

"Is  that  the  truth  ?"  asked  Mr.  Langdon. 

"It  is." 

"  Then  you  are  a  better  man  thau  I  gave 
you  credit  for.     And'is  all  danger  over?" 

"  I  think  so,  and  yet  J  cannot  be  sure.  I 
shall  keep  a  watch  over  this  little  settle- 
ment. Adieu  now!  And  have  you  not  one 
parting  word,  Miss  Belle?" 

"Yes;"  and  she  looked  fearlessly  into  his 
face,  "and  it  is  that  I  trust  you  will— if  you 
must  fight— go  iuto  the  army  instead  of 
fighting  like  a  sneak,  running  from  a 
stronger  force  and  attacking  only  the  weak 
and  defenseless." 

He  managed  to  smother  his  rage  under  a 
harsh  laugh. 

Once  outside,  he  clinched   his  hands    aud 
swore  to  tame  her  hauj 
her  proud  head  at  his  1 

In  pursuance  of  his  suddenly  formed  plan 
he  got  his  men  together,  and  even  though  it 
was  uow  dark— save  for  the  light  of  the 
moon— descended  the  mountain. 

After  this  visit,  which  had  upset  the  little 
community  in  the  mountains,  everything 
went  smoothly  and  peacefully  along  for 
nearly  a  month. 

One  day  a  wild  shriek  rang  through  the 
little  valley. 

There  was  a  rush  in  the  direction  whence 
the  cry  came. 

Belle  Langdon  being   swiftly 


borne    away  in  the  arms  of 

Han  ! 


burly 


This  fact,  as  might  be  expected,  endeared, 
him  to  the  men  about  him,  his  companions 
iu  arms,  audit  gained  for  him  the  genuine 
respect  of  his  superiors. 

He  was  spoken  of  as  a  model  soldier,  a 
man  to  do  and  dare,  but  without  a  spark  of 
conceit. 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


It  was  not  singular  that  the  officers  of 
rank  should  desire  to  see  so  great  yet  so 
modest  a  soldier. 

And  one  day  he  was  sent  for  by  no  less  a 
personage  than  the  commanding  general 
himself. 

It  required  a  conversation  of  only  a  few 
minutes  to  show  him  that  Kit  Langdon  was 
:i  man  of  superior  ability  as  well  as  good 
education. 
1  Office  was  again  urged  on  Kit,  and  again 
lie  modestly  declined  it. 

He  was  permitted  to  depart,  but  when  he 
had  pone  word  was  sent  to  his  captain  to 
detail  him  as  much  as  possible,  and  to  re- 
i  lieve  him  from  picket  duty. 

"There  is  good  stuff  in  that  fellow,"  was 
the  general's  expressed  opinion;  "and  we 
must  keep  him  in  as  good  physical  and 
fighting  trim  as  possible." 

Out  of  this  order  grew  the  circumstance 
that  on  the  fifteenth  of  March,  one  month 
less  one  day  after  the  capture  of  Fort  Donel- 
sou,  Kit  was  given  a  commission  to  exeoute 
that  would  take  him  ten  miles  to  the  rear  of 
the  army. 

The  country  was  a  rebel  one,  nearly  every 


Uniou  lines,  the  country  conquered,  and 
tra\  .ling  was  consequently  safe— or  at  least 
supposed  to  be. 

"Can  I  take  a  companion?"  Kit  asked. 

"  Certainly.    Two,  if  you  want  them." 

"I  only  want  one." 

"Who  is  it?" 

"Sam  Black." 

"You're  old  comrade?" 

"Yes." 

"  You've  tried  him?" 

"I  have." 

"Well,  take  him." 

"If       " 
Kit, 
on  good  horses. 

They  had  left  camp  only  a  couple  of  miles 
behind  them,  when  a  little  circumstance 
Inouglit  a  grave  expression  to  Kit's  face. 

A  vinegar-faced  woman,  of  lank,  gaunt 
frame,  laughed  derisively  as  they  cantered 
past  her,  and  yelled  after  them  : 

"Johnnie  Morgan's  goin'  to  gobble  you 
chaps  up  slmer." 

The  name  of  Morgan  at  that  time  was  suf- 
ficient to  strike  terror  into  almost  any  Union 
heart. 

Morgan's  daring  and  reckless  exploits 
were  themes  on  every  tongue,  for  his  raids 
were  never  less  successful  than  daring;  and. 
although  Kit  said  nothing,  he  knew  that 
their  succe.-s  was  not  a  little  contributed  to 
by  his  brother  Ben. 

"  By  the  looks  of  your  face,  Kit,  one  would 
think  you  believed  the  woman  spoke  the 
truth."  said  Sam.  suggestively. 

"It's  possible." 

"PohV' 

"It is,  however.  ' 

"  But  not  probable." 

"Perhaps  not.  But,  Sam,  no  man  knows 
where  Morgan  may  turn  up  at  any  minute." 

"You're  rigid  .about  that.  He's  given  our 
boys  some  hig  surprises.  But,  then,  tain't 
likely  lied  run  the  risk  of  coming  around 
in  the  rear  of  the  Union  army." 

"The  very  thing  that  he'd  be  likely  to 
do." 

So  said  Kit. 

Thenceforth  they  kept  their  eyes  wide 
opeu,  and  whenever  they  met  anybody 
whose  looks  impressed  them  favorably  Kit 
would  put  some  cautious  questions. 

He  learned  nothing  that  would  either 
prove  or  disprove  his  fears  until  he  en- 
countered an  aged  negro. 

The  latter  volunteered  his  information 
without  being  asked 

"Golly,  gciielmen. 
Morgan's  got  youse." 

"Is he  out  there?" 

"Yes,  rnassa." 

"In  this  vicinity?" 

"Yes,  massa." 

"Sure?" 

"Pos'tive." 

"  Have  you  seen  him  ?" 

"No,  but  I'se  heard." 

"Where  is  he  now?" 

"  I  tink  he's  divided  his  force,  and  part  am 
on  de  fuss  cross-road  ahead." 

"And  the  others?" 

"On  de  road  youse  just  passed." 

"  Aud  you " 


done  af eared    dat 


"Why?" 

"  Dar  comes  my  missy,  an'  if  she  seed  dis 
chile,  he'd  get  der  eat." 
"I  don't  see  her." 
"  Dar  she  is,  dough !"  exclaimed  the  negro, 


with  fear  and  trembling  in  his  tone,  and  he 
put  off  as  fast  as  he  could  go. 

What  was  to  be  done? 

So  they  ask cil  [ hciuselves,  and  had  not 
reached  the  solution  of  the  question  when 
the  mistress  of  the  aged  African  drew  near. 

There  was  visible  on  her  face  a  vicious 
kind  of  a  smile  that  did  not  tend  to  reassure 
our  friends. 

They  spoke  to  her.  but  she  passed  them 
with  a  haughty  stare. 

"Morgan  is  around!"  said  Kit. 

"  I  believe  so  myself,  now." 

"Wonder  if  the  negro  knew  exactly  what 
he  was  talking  about?" 


gained  so  good  an  idea  of  Morgan's 
ts." 

"He has  in  part!" 

Sam  started  as  these  emphasized  words  fell 
on  his  ears. 

"What  are  you  driving  at?"  he  quickly 
asked. 

"Just  that!" 

Kit  pointed  up  the  road  in  the  direction  in 
which  (hey  had  1 n  heading. 

Nearly  half  a  mile  away  they  could  see  a 
large  body  of  horsemen,  which  doubtless 
«  as  a  part  of  Morgan's  force  of  cavalry. 

"Wemust  turn  tad,"  said  Kit,  regretfully. 
"  There  is  no  help  for  it." 


mistress  of  the  friendly  negro,  and  they 
could  hear  her  scornful  laugh  ringing  in 
their  ears. 

Devil  take  her!"  exclaimed  Sam,  shaking 


tin  they  sped 

Soon  they  were  not  far  from  the  other 
cross-road,  on  which  the  African  had  ven- 
tured the  opinion  that  another  part  of  Mor- 
gan's cavalry  was  advancing. 

To  be  captured  by  Morgan  was  a  fate  not 
to  be  envied,  and  tin-  hearts  of  both  beat 
faster  as  they  drew  near  the  road. 

Unfortunately  for  them,  a  little  piece  of 
intervening  timber  made  it  necessary  to  get 
within  a  couple  of  hundred  feet  of   the  road 


lido 


1  not  halt  and  then  go  cautious- 
ly aheu..  to  reeonnoiti  i ,  for  they  knew  that 
t'hev  had  been  observed  by  the  party  behind 
them. 

Their  only  course  was  to  dash  ahead  and 
cross  the  intersecting  road  if  possible. 

If  this  could  be  safely  done,  they  believed 
that,  from  there  onward,  they  would  find 
the  road  as  free  and  unobstructed  as  when 
they  had  cantered  along  it  so   short   a   time 


t  in  they  went— on  like  the  wind. 

The  timber  loomed  up  just  ahead. 

Beyond  that  ran  the  cross-road. 

"Now,  then,  torn  dash!"  exclaimed  Kit. 

Into  the  Hanks  ol  their  horses  they  p  1  aim- 
ed the  rowels  of  their  spurs,  and  the  noble 
animals  responded  with  a  monstrous  burst 
of  speed. 

The  timber  was  reached. 

"Halt!" 

As  the  stern  command  rang  out,  the  road 
became  suddenly  alive  with  horsemen,  who 
had  been  m  covert  in  the  woods. 

The  way  forward  was  barred. 

Kit  wheeled  his  horse  around. 

Perhaps,  if  he  could  get  away,  he  might 
lead  a  chase  across  fields  and  escape. 

Fruitless  hope. 

The  rear  was  guard.  .1  equally  well. 

They  had  ridden  fairly  into  an  ambuscade, 
and  were  surrounded. 

Kit's  hand  had  leaped  to  the  butt  of  a  re- 
volver. 

"Surrender  pcacably,  if  you  know  when 
you  are  well  off,"  said  a  gruff  voice.  "  Hands 


useless. 

They  were  hopelessly  involved. 

"What  is  it  to  be,  Kit?" 

So  asked  Sam,  a  dogged  look  on  his  face, 
scowling  at  their  captors,  his  hand  still 
clutching  his  revolver. 

If  Kit  gave  the  word  he  was  ready  to  light, 
all  the  frowning  firearms  in  the  world 
would  not  have  prevented  his  drawing  his 
weapons. 

Kit  was  silent. 

"What  is  it  to  be,  Kit?"  he  asked  again. 
"Shall  we  let  these  fellows  bag  us,  or  shall 
we  kill  about  half,  and  run  the  rest  in?" 

A  hearty  laugh  on  the  part  of  the  rebels  fol- 
lowed this  speech,  and  even  Kit  was  com- 


pelled to  smile,  little  as  he  felt  like  it." 
"  I  don't  know,  Sam,  but  that  we  might 
find  some  trouble  in  acoinplishiug  the  task," 
Kit  now  said.  "  These  gentlemen  seem  to  be 
a   sociable  lot  of  fellows,  ami,  as  they  are  so 


particularly   urgent  for  our  < ipany,  why 

perhaps  it  would  be  best 


accommodate 
them.T 
It  was  a  happy  speech. 

Those  who  hear. I  it  believed  at  once  that 
Kit  was  a  jolly,  happy-go-lucky  fellow,  who 
cared  litl  le  whether  school  kept  or  not,  and 
would  about  as  soon  fight  on  one  side  as  the 
other. 

"That's  sensible, "  said  the  leader  of  the 
rebels.  "Now,  we'll  take  your  weapons,  if 
you  please." 

Kit  handed  over  his  weapons,  and  Sam  did 
likewise,  though  he  made  an  awful  grimace 
as  he  did  so. 

"Now,  then,  put  them  with  the  other  cap- 
tives," said  the  commander,  aud  as  Kit  and 
Sam  were  conducted  away  he  heard  the  cry: 

"  Here  comes  the  other  division." 

Kit  instantly  guessed  that  for  some  reason 
'  ting  the 
rende/.- 


question    that    Morgan    asked,  as    he   came 
dashing  up. 

"Good.  And  now  let  us  away  again.  The 
country  is  becoming  aroused:  word  will  soon 
reach  the  Union  lines,  aud  if  weain'twell 
out  of  the  way  there'll  be  the  devil  to  pay." 

In  less  than  five  minutes  the  whole  force 
was  iu  motion. 

The  prisoners,  including  Kit  and  Sam,  in 
number  about  forty,  were  placed  iu  the  cen- 
ter, and  before  starting  were  warned  that 
any  attempt  at  escape  would  be  the  signal 
for  shooting  them  down. 

Sam,  however,  was  red-hot  for  trying  to 
make  a  break  at  all  hazards. 

"No— no,  Sam,"  protested  Kit.  "  It  would 
be  sure  death.  Wait  a  while— take  things 
cool— we  may  get  a  chance  by  and  by  that 
will  be  worth  frying  to  make  use  ofJ" 

Several  hours  passed,  and  still  that  chance 
had  not  presented  itself. 

Meanwhile  the  number  of  prisoners  kept 
rapidly  increasing,  several  officers  having 
been  added  to  the  score  among  others. 

At  last  the  victorious  raiders  came  to  a 
halt.  It  was  necessary,  for  the  riding  had 
been  bard  and  fast,  and  the  horses  were  much 
jaded. 

"Halt for  an  hour!"  had  been  the  order 
given. 

.Morgan  himself  — the  .'unions  M organ — with 
a  grimly  humorous  li^ht in  his  large,  pierc- 
ing eves,  approached  to  survey  the  prison- 
ers. 

He  was  a  bold  and  dashing  looking  man, 
just  suited  in  appearance  to  the  deeds  of 
dar'niL'  which  had  mad.-  his  name  famous. 

Kit  looked  at  him  curiously,  as  the  chief  of 
his  brother  Ben,  for  whom  he  had  been  look- 
ing ever  since  captured. 

As  yet  he  had  fa  i  lei  1  to  see  anything  of  him, 
and  a  fear  was  beginning  to  creep  into  his 
heart  that  perhaps  he  should  nevermore  see 
that  gallant  and  much-loved  brother. 

Morgan,  when  he  halted,  was  very  near 
Kit,  and  he  bad  it  on  the  end  of  his  tongue, 
as  the  saying  goes,  to  ask  some  question  as  to 
his  brother. 

He  did  not  utter  the  words. 

"It  may  strike  him  that  I  am  trying  to 
make  capital  for  myself,"  bethought,  "and 
I  wish  no  favors  from  the  rebel  more  than 
are  granted  to  my  fellow  captives." 

As  Morgan's  piercing  eyes  ran  over  the 
prisoners,  many  of  the  men  quailed. 

There  was  one  pair  of  eyes  which  met  his 
steadily  aud  unflinchingly. 

They  were  the  eyes  of  Kit! 

Perhaps  it  was  partially  on  account  of  his 
handsome,  well-knit  figure  that  Kit  was  es- 
pecially favored  by  a  longer  continued  scru- 
tiny than  any  one  else. 

After  scanning  Kit  from  head  to  foot  Mor- 
gan's eves  were  lifted  and  fastened  again  on 


:it's. 


You  have  a  fearless  eve,  young  man,"  he 
said. 

"And  you  may  add  a  fearless  heart," 
calmly  sa'id  Kit. 

"Well  said.  Your  eyes  put  me  in  mind  of 
another  pair  I  know  of— egad,  you  might 
easily  be  brothers.     Where  are  you   from?" 

"Kentucky." 

"Humph  !  then  you'd  ought  to  be  fighting 
in  agray  suit  instead  of  a  blue  one." 

"I  am  the  best  judge  of  that." 

"Don't  be  impudent,  sir,"  agleamof  angei 
in  the  large,  full  eyes. 

"  I  have  the  same  right  to  my  opinions  a* 
you  have  to  yours,   and  when  you  invit* 


10 


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them  I  would  he  a  craven  if  fear  led  me  to 
keep  »iy  mouth  shut." 

"I  take  it  all  hark.' said  the  dashingcav- 
alry  chieftain.  "  I  see  that  you  do  not  wear 
any  straps,  although  111  swear  you  deserve 
them.  If  you'll  come  over  to  our  side  I'll 
promise  yiui  a  majorship  at  the  least." 

"Never!"  scornfully  returned  Kit. 

"As  you  please,"  with  a  shrug  of  the 
shoulders. 

As  Morgan  was  about  to  turn  away,  one  of 
his  men  spoke  to  him. 

"  That  man  you  were  talking  to  was  the 
leader  of  that  party  of  four  which  ran  in 
twelve  of  our  boys  " 


Su  this  in;,,,  told  Morgan. 

'•Ttu.  devil     villi    s;iv'"    no 


Ye 

fods!  what  could  I  not  do  with  a  few  hun- 
red  such  as  him  behind  my  back." 

While  Morgan  stood  gazing  wistfully  at 
Kit,  the  latter  saw  one  approaching,  at  sight 
ef  whom  his  heart  leaped  for  joy. 

It  was  Ben. 

Ah !  brave,  noble  Ben,  who  had  so  cour- 
ageously faced  that  howling  mob  and  saved 
his  life. 

But  Ben  never  looked  his  way. 

How  he  wished  to  call  to  him.  But  he 
would  not. 

He  might  have  done,  had  Morgan  not  been 
near,  but  he  would  not  while  he  could  hear. 

To  Sam,  who  was  close  beside  him,  he  said, 
and  his  tone  was  very  fond  and  tender: 

"Sam,  is  not  that  li  noble  looking  fellow?" 

"  Yes,"  was  the  reluctant  admission  of 
Sam,  who  dia  not  like  to  admit  that  there 
was  anything  good  about  any  rebel. 

"  He  is  my  brother." 

"What?" 

Sam  stared  in  open-mouthed  astonishment 
at  Kit. 

"It  is  true." 

"  And  him  a  rebel  ?" 

"Yes." 

Sum  scratched  his  head. 

"  Bust  me  if  I  can  understand  it,"  he  pres- 
ently blurted  out. 

"It's  easily  understood.  He  believes  the 
y South  i;  in  the  right  and  fights  according  to 
'Miis  convictions." 


Sam  shook  his  head. 

"If  you  say  so,  why— it's  so.  But  I'd 
never  a'-lielie\  oil  it  otherwise." 

Phew! 

Sam  suddenly  gave  utterance  to  a  low 
whistle,  and  when  Kit  looked  around  winked 
knowingly  at  him. 

"That  means  that  we're  as  good  as  free, 
don't  it?"  he  said  in  a  whisper. 


"  What  do  a 

"  Why,  tha't 

to  skin  out  of 

'Do  you 

"T 


itil  he  helps 


urn  traitor?"  cried 
his  hand  off  before 
anted  to  I  wouldn't 


Kit.  "  Never !  H 
he'd  help  us.  And 
let  him." 

"Sho!"  said  Sam,  and  his  chin  dropped, 
and  he  looked  ruefully  at  his  companion. 
"You  edicated  fellows  puzzle  me  most  all- 
flredly.  He  wouldn't  help  you.  and  him 
your  brother  all  the  time?" 

"That's  it." 

"  Well,  blow  me  if  I  think  it's  brotherly," 
with  which  frank  expression  of  opinion  Sam 
relapsed  into  silence. 

Ben  Laugdon  delivered  the  message  to  his 
general  and  was  minim:  awav  «  hen  Morgan 
halted  him. 

"Laugdon,"  said  he,  " I  want  you  to  look 
atone  of  the  prisoners  we've  captured.  I 
think  he's  one  of  the  handsomest  built  men 
I  ever  set  eyes  on." 

"  Where  is  he?" 

"There." 

"Ah!" 

Ben  gasped  for  breath. 

"  You  know  him  ?"  said  Morgan, 

"Yes,  it's  my  brother  Kit." 

"The  devil,  you  say!  Then  I'll  have  to 
order  the  guards  to  keep  close  watch  on  him, 
for  if  he's  your  brother  he's  liable  to  get 
the  upper  hand  of  us  and  run  us  all  into  the 
t'nioii  lines." 

Ben  laughed  at  the  left-handed  compli- 
ment thus  paid  to  him,  anil  then  called  out : 

"  I've  got  something  to  attend  to,  Kit,  but 
111  be  back  presently  to  take  you  bv  the 
hand,  my  brave  old  brother." 

Ben's  eyes  were  glistening  with    moisture 

Sam  just  then  "iilp  -d  down  something. 
"I  take  it  all  back,  Kit."  he  said.     "  He's  a 

line  1  el  low  even  it  he  is  a  hi ly  Seeesh." 

Very  impatiently  Kit  awaited" his  brother's 


about  him,  and  when  the  hour  was  nearly 
expired  he  whispered  to  Sam : 

"  Keep  your  eye  on  me,  and  be  ready  to 
follow  suit"  in  case  I  make  a  break.  I  foresee 
that  an  opportunity  may  soon  come." 

"  Bully,"  grunted  Sam. 

In  momentary  expectation  of  the  order  to 
mount,  the  men  were  already  beginning  to 
look  after  their  horses  when  Hen  arrived. 

"Come  this  way,  Kit,"  he  called,  and  the 
man  on  guard  said  nothing,  as  Kit,  olosely 
followed  by  Sam,  edged  out  of  the  crowd  of 
captives. 

Ben  thrust  out  his  hand. 

Kit  seized  il  eagerly. 

"Ben!" 

"Kit!" 

"When  have  you  heard  from  home?" 

"  Not  since  I  was  there  in  the  winter." 

"And  then?" 

"  You  have  not  been  to  see  the  folks  sinoe 
then  ?" 

"No." 

"They  were  well  then." 

"  All  of  them  ?" 

"  Yes,  all." 

"And  mother— Cod  bless  her!— does  she 
grieve  much?" 

•'  Of  course,  that  must  be  expected." 

"  And  Belle?    She's  true  blue  yet?" 

"  Yes,  heart  and  soul." 

"  Bless  her  little  heart !  And  does  she  still 
stick  to  Harry?" 

"Yes  ;  she  says  she'll  marry  him  afterjthe 
war  is  ended." 

"And  Harry  ?  Is  he  the  same  noble  fellow 
he  used  to  be?" 

"Ay.  He  is  every  way  worthy  of  our 
sister,  Kit.  lie  is  a  grand  fellow,  and  a  per- 
fect lion  in  a  fight.  But,  Kit,  I'm  awful 
sorry  to  see  you  here  in  the  light  of  a  pris- 

"  Don't  grieve.  You  won't  see  me  thus 
very  long." 

"Don't  ask  too  many  questions." 

Ben  grew  pale. 

"For  Heaven's  sake.  Kit,"  he  exclaimed, 
"don't  be  so  foolish  as  to  attempt  to  escape. 
It  is  sure  death.     Promise  me " 

He  was  interrupted  by  the  command  that 
swept  along  the  line  to  mount. 

"I'll  soon  see  you  again,"  said  Ben,  hur- 
riedly, and  clasping  Kit  once  more  by  the 
hand,  he  sped  away  to  where  he  had  left  his 
horse. 

"  Prisoners  mount!"  ordered  the  guard. 

Kit  and  Sam  were  thefirst  to  get  into  their 
saddles. 

"Now!" 

Kit  hissed  the  word  into  Sam's  ear,  just  as 
he  vaulted  into  the  saddle. 

"Ready,"   grunted   Sam,  between   his  set 

teeth. 

A  moment  later  and  a  wild  howl  weut  up. 

Beu  Laugdon  turned,  and  every  particle 
of  color  deserted  his  face  at  sight  of  Kit 
making  a  dash  for  liberty ! 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A   PROPOSAL   OF   MAHKIAGE 

Belle  Laugdon  had  goue  to  the  spring  to 
procure  some  water,  as  she  not  infrequently 
did. 

She  had  no  thought  of  danger,  for  she  had 
performed  that  selfsame  journey  hundreds 
of  times  without   ever  having  had  cause  for 

So.  on  this  day,  she  looked  about  her  with 
no  more  suspicion  than  she  always  had,  and 
failed  to  discover  anybody  linking  in  the 
hushes  which  grew  thickly  not  far  from  the 
spring. 

She  had  filled  the  pail  and  had  turned 
around  to  retrace  her  steps  when  she  be- 
came awaie  that  she  was  confronted  by  a 
burly  rough-looking  man,  while  now  pro- 
truding from  the  bushes  were  the  heads  of 
three  others. 

The  pail  dropped  from  her  hand  as  he 
reached  out  his  hand  to  grasp  her. 

As  she  felt  his  brawny  hand  close  on  her 
arm,  she  gave  utterance  to  that  piercing 
scream  which  alarmed  all  in  the  settle- 
ment. 

"  Confound  it,"  growled  her  captor— "stop 
that  sipiealin'  or  I'll  throttle  ye." 

Then,  in  spite  of  tin-brave  girl's  struggles, 
he  picked  her  up  in  hisarms,  and  as  it  he  were 
carrying  no  heavier  burden  than  a  child,  he 
began  to  descend  a  rough  mountain  path. 

Her  agonized  father  caught  sight,  of  her  at 
a  moment  when  only  she  and  the  man  who 
held  her  were  in  sight. 

"After  him!"  cried  Mr.  Laugdon.  "Sure- 
ly we  ought  to  beable  to  handle  one  man." 

Even  as  he  spoke,  three  other  men  came  in 

They  were    behind    the   abductor,  as  if  to 


cover   up  the  rear  and  insure  his   getting 
safely  away  with  his  lovely  prisoner. 
"  Oh !  if  I  had  a  rifle,"  moaned  Mr.  Lang- 


"  Here  is  one." 

He  turned  quickly,  and  snatched  it  from 
the  speaker's  hands. 

Up  to  hij  shoulder  it  quickly  went,  but 
soon  was  lowered. 

"  I  should  be  likely  to  hit  her,  and  probab- 
ly kill  her,"  he  groaned.  "  Follow  me— we 
must  rescue  her." 

Down  the  mountain  path  dashed  the  an- 
guished father,  followed  by  the  couple  of 
men  and  a  few  half  grown  boys,  who  could 
be  of  no  earthly  assistance. 

The  abducting  party  soon  after  disap~ 
peared  from  sight  in  the  thick  growth  of 
bushes  and  young  timber  that  grew  on  the 
lower  reaches  of  the  mountain. 

Mr.  Langdon  was  not  long  in  reaching  the 
point  of  disappearance,  and  here  all  trace 
was  lost. 

Earnestly  they  searched,  but  could  not  find 
trace  of  or  rescue  the  lost  beauty;  and  when 
night  came  on,  dark  and  moonless,  Mr.  Lang- 
don assented  to  returning  to  the  settlement. 

He  found  his  wife  overcome  with  grief, 
and  wild  with  apprehension. 

"  What  can  we  do  ?"  she  wailed. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  sadly. 

"Must  we  leave  her  to  her  fate?" 

"  I  can  see  no  other  way." 

"  But  what  may  happen  her?" 

Mr.  Laugdon  bowed  his  head,  and  a  tear 
forced  itself  from  his  eye. 

"  She  is  in  the  hands  of  God,"  he  reverently 
said.  "  Nothing  more  can  be  done  to-night, 
and  we  must  trust  our  darling  to  His  care. 
When  day  comes  again  then— then  we  will 
see  what,  can  be  done." 

A  sadder  night  had  never  closed  in  on  that 
little  settlement  than  this  one  when  Belle 
Langdon  was  thus  forcibly  carried  away. 

By  whom  ? 

And  for  what  purpose  ? 

These  were  the  questions  that  agitated 
every  heart,  as  the  affair  was  discussed  in 
hushed  tones  around  each  fireside. 

She  had  been  loved  by  all— this  gentle  vet 
high-spirited  girl. 

No  little  child  in  the  settlement  but  ran 
gladly  to  her  u  hen  they  saw  her,  and  manv 
a  little  one  fell  asleep  that  night  with  eye- 
lashes wet,  or  big  tears  resting  on  their 
faces. 

The  night  wore  on  until  the  hour  of  nine, 
and  the  people  were  all  making  preparations 
to  go  to  bed,  when  attention  was  arrested  by 
a  stentorian  : 

"Ho!  ho!" 

What  could  it  mean?" 

Every  head  was  bent  in  a  listening  atti- 
tude. 

Was  somebody  freezing,  and  in  need  of  as- 
sistance? 

"Ho!  ho!" 

No ;  the  tone  was  not  that  of  a  person  in 
distress,  but  seemed  rather  to  he  intoned 
with  gladness. 

Perhaps  somebody's  father  or  brother  was 
returning  from  the  war  to  pay  a  visit. 

"Ho!  ho!" 

Mr.  Langdon  stepped  to  the  tloor,  threw 
it  open,  and  gazed  out  into  the  night. 

"Father!" 

Ah !  he  knew  that  voice. 

"Belle!  my  child— safe!" 

Light  feet  came  tripping  over  the  frozen 
ground,  and  the  next  minute  the  head  of  the 
beautiful  girl  was  pillowed  on  her  father's 
breast. 

"Ho!  ho!" 

"What  does  it  all  mean?"  shouted  some- 
body. 

The  voice  that  had  broken  the  silence 
with  that— "Ho!  ho!"  answered: 

"  Belle  Langdon  has  been  rescued,  and  is 
safe  in  her  father's  arms." 

The  cry  was  caught  up  and  repeated,  and 
many  a  fervent  "Thank  God!"  was  uttered. 

"Come  in,  child,"  said  Mr.  Langdon,  after 
straining  his  daughter  to  his  heart.  "  And 
the  noble  man  who  has  rescued  you— let  him 
too  enter,  that  he  may  receive  a  father's 
blessing." 

The  rescuer  of  Belle  Laugdon  followed  the 
minister  inside— Belle,  as  soon  as  released 
from  her  father's  arms,  having  rushed  in  to 
fling  herself  in  those  of  her  mother. 

"You?" 

Mr.     Langdon's    tone     was     incredulous. 

"You?"  he  repeated. 

Surprise  was  depicted  on  his  face. 

"Yes.  Why,  is  it  anything  funny?  Do 
you  think  that  only  parsons  can  fight?" 

The  speaker  was  none  other  than  Buck 
Toole. 

"Forgive  me,"  said  Mr.  Langdon,  gently. 
" I  have  always  misjudged  you...  I  have  al- 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


ways  believed  you  to  be  a  wicked  man,  but 
I  humbly  crave  your  pardon." 

"You  can't  always  tell  a  diamond  in  the 
rough,"  was  the  reply.  "I  may  do  some 
■  [ in-.-i'  things  at  times,  but  my  heart  is  in  the 
right  place." 

"To-night's  action  convinces  me  of  that 
fact,"  said  Mr.  Laugdon,  heartily.  "And 
now  tell  me  how  you  came  to  rescue  my 
darling." 

"  Oh !  there's  not  much  to  tell,"  in  an  off- 
hand way.  "  I  ran  across  four  fellows  a 
takin'  of  Miss  Belle  with  'em,  and   quicker' n 


lightning  I  had  <>ul  my  pops  and  was  blazin' 
away  at  'em.    They  dropped 
potato,  and   cut   sticks  like 


ler  like  a  hot 
vardly 
cusses  they  are.  Then  I  just  about  face  and 
brought  Miss  Belle  home.  It  was  slow  work 
coming  up  the  mountain  in  the  dark,  which 
accounts  for  my  gettin'  here  so  late. 

"  Heaven  bless  you  for  this  good  act,"  said 
the  parson,  and  inwardly   Buck   exclaimed: 

"  I've  scored  a  bull's-eye  sure." 

"You  must  stay  all  night,"  added  Mr. 
Langdon. 

"  Yes,  don't  care  if  I  do.  It's  a  long  way 
down  the  mountain  on  p  night  as  dark  anil 
cold  as  this.  A  blanket  here  on  the  floor 
wi.l  do  splendidly."    , 

In  the  privacy  of  their  "leeping  room 
Belle  told  substantially  the  same  story  of 
her  resjcie  as  that  told  by  Buck  Toole. 

Soon  after  dayligh-  the  next  morning, 
everybody  began  to  crowd  to  the  house  of 
the  Laugdon's  to  express  their  joy  over 
Belle  s  escape. 

From  the  oldest,  to  these  who  could  just 
toddle,  they  came  to  say  how  glad  they  were 
that  she  had  returned  home  safely,  the 
older  ones  of  course  anxious  to  satisfy  their 
curiosity  as  to  how  it  had  been  brought 
about. 

Buck  Toole  instantly  was  exalted  into  a 
hero,  and  on  all  sides  were  his  praises 
sounded. 

He  bore  the  compliments  as  to  his  bravery 
■with  as  much  modesty  as  he  could  muster, 
and  shortly  after  noon  took  himself  away. 

At  parting,  he  offered  his  hand  to 
Belle,  anil  she  timidly  accepted  it. 

Mi      * 
didl 

"  Buck,  when  I  can  do  you  a  favor,  come 
to  me.  I  wish  I  could  reward  you  as  you  de- 
serve for  rescuing  my  child  from  an  un- 
kuoyvnfate,  but  that  would  be  impossible." 

"I  know  it,"  witli  an  assumption  ot  gloom- 
iness "There  is  only  one  way  in  which  I 
could  be  paid." 

"And  that?  If  there  is  a  way,  mention 
it." 

"I'm  dispritly  in  love  with  the  girl," 
blurted  out  Buck,  with  an  appearance  of 
blunt  honesty  that  quite  deceived  Mr.  Lang- 
don, and  then  he  strode  away. 

"I've planted  the  seed,"  chuckled  Buck, 
as  he  descended  the  mountain.  "  Now  let  it 
grow.  That  was  a  clever  idea— that  abduc- 
tion and  rescue  business.  It's  worked  like  a 
charm.  But  suppose  it  don't  work  after 
ally" 

His  brow  clouded. 

He  paused  and  clinched  his  hands. 

"Curse  it,"  he  hissed,  "if  them  there 
brothers  of  hers  only  get  killed,  I  could  force 
her  into  it  whether  she  wanted  to  or  not. 
But  it'll  never  do  to  try  any  such  game  as 
that  while  they're  alive— for  they're  both 
fire-eaters." 

From  the  foregoing,  the  reader  will  gather 
the  truth— that  the  villains  yvho  had  abduct- 
ed Belle,  were  acting  uuder  Buck's  instruc- 
tions, and  that  the  rescue  was  a  clever 
sham. 

His  reason  for  going  to  all  this  trouble  was 
simply  that  he  feared  to  resort  to  open  vio- 
lence to  gain  his  foul  ends  while  either  Kit 
or  Ben  were  alive  to  mete  out  vengeance  on 
his  guilty  head. 

If  he  could  bring  indirect  influences  and 
forces  to  bear— if  he  could  obtaiu  Mr.  Lang- 
don's  consent,  however  reluctant  it  might 
be,  he  would  have  attained  his  ends  just  the 
same  and  without  taking  upon  himself  the 
risk  of  incurring  the  active  enmity  of  Kit 
and  Ben. 

He  was  made  of  too  coarse  a  material  him- 
self to  have  any  really  line  feelings,  and  he 
believed  that  while  Belle  did  not  now  care 
for  him,  she  would  do  so  once  they  w-ere 
married. 

He  let  a  weak  pass  by,  and  then  again  vis- 
ited the  mountain. 

Belle  saw  him  coming,  and  with  a  shud- 
der, retreated  into  the  house. 

She  did  not  like  the  man,  and  feared  him, 
even  though  he  had,  to  all  appearances,  res- 
cued her  from  a  fate  perhaps  worse  than 
death. 

She  feared  him  still  more,  after  hearing 


from  her  father's  lips  the  words  Buck  Toole 
had  used  at  parting  with  him. 

Straight  to  the  parson's  house  he  came  and 
asked  for  Belle. 

She  could  not  refuse  to  see  him  after  hav- 
ing been  so  greatly  indebted  to  him,  and 
emerged  from  her  own  room. 

He  came  right  to  the  point. 

"Miss  Belle,"  he  said,  "I  have  conic  here 
to  ask  you  to  marry  me." 

Then  he  looked  qucstioningly  at  her,  his 
face  lighted  with  eagerness. 

"  Impossible!"  she  gasped. 

"Why  so?" 

"  Because— I— don't  love  you." 

"  But  you  would  after  awhile." 

She  shook  her  head. 

"lam  sure  not,"  she  said. 

Buck  guawed  his  lips. 

"I'm  sorry  that  you  can't  marry  me  off- 
hand, whether  you  want  to  or  not,"  he  said. 
"  Because  it  is  necessary  that  you  should  be- 
come my  wife  within  this  very  hour!" 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

UP   AND   AWAY. 

Kit  Langdon's  keen  eyes,  as  we  have  said, 
had  not  been  idle  while  he  was  awaiting 
Ben's  coming. 

Carefully  they  had  scrutinized  the  sur- 
roundings, and  he  had  reached  the  belief 
that  it  would  be  possible  to  escape  during 
the  bustle  of  remounting. 

At  the  east  side  of  the  road  was  a  willow 
hedge,  with  a  gap  in  it  here  and  there. 

Beyond  this  hedge  was  an  open  field  of  two 
huiidred  yards  in  breadth,  and  then  came  a 
piece  of  timber. 

Ouce  through  this  hedge.  Kit  clearly  saw 
that  it  would  be  difficult  to  bring  them 
down  with  bullets. 

The  hedge  would  prevent  the  rebels  shoots 
ing  at  all,  or  else  deflect  the  bullets. 

When  that  shout  went  up  which  caused 
Ben  Langdon  to  look  around,  to  see  his 
brother  making  a  dash  for  liberty,  it  was 
toward  this  willow  liedne  that  Kit  was  head- 
ing. 

Morgan,  too,  saw  the  dash. 

"The  devil!"  he  exclaimed;  "and  I  act- 
ually  warned  the  guards  about  that  very 
fellow." 

He  knew  at  a  glance  that  it  was  Kit. 

There  was  no  mistaking  that  tall  athletic 
figi: 


'Nov 


lips. 


■  again  this  little  word  fell   from  Kit's 


This  time  it  was  addressed  to  his  horse. 

As  he  spoke,  he  touched  the  animal  lightly 
with  the  spurs,  lifted  him,  and  away  the} 
went  crashing  through  an  opening  in  the 
willows  not  sufficiently  large  to  let  them 
pass  without  bending  and  breaking  many 
twigs. 

"Now!" cried  Sam. 

Then  his  horse  reached  outward  and  up- 
ward, and  at  Kit's  heels  he  went  through 
the  hedge  and 

A  heavy  discharge,  of  a  dozen  rifles  shot 
off  at  once,  rang  in  Sam's  ears,  and  he  could 
plainly  hear  the  whizz  of  the  bullets  he  had 
so  narrowly  escaped. 

It  was  a  daring  feat. 

From  the  lips  of  more  than  one  fell  an  ad- 
miring exclamation. 

Kit  had  calculated  well. 

The  hedge  prevented  indiscriminate  shoot- 
ing at  least,  and  indeed  (here  were  few  pre- 
pared to  shoot  at  such  a  moment.  Nearly 
every  man  there  thought  of  the  remaining 
captives,  and  fearing  a  stampede,  closed 
around  them. 

Morgan  and  a  few  others,  however,  stood 
m  a  position  where  a  complete  command 
was  held  over  the  open  space  which  the  bold 
fellows  must  cross. 

Not  one  had  presence  of  mind  sufficient  to 
try  and  shoot  the  escaping  captives. 

Morgan  was  the  only  man  among  them 
who  retained  the  use  of  his  faculties  to  their 
full  extent. 

He  snatched  a  rifle  from  the  hands  of  the 
man  nearest  him. 

To  his  shoulder  it  flew. 

Morgan  was  au  unerring  marksman,  and 
when  Beu  saw  him  draw  a  bead,  he  groaned 
deeply. 

Catching  his  breath,  he  sprung  forward 
with  uplifted  hand,  as  if  he  would  dash 
aside  the  rifle  held  by  his  chief. 

He  suddenly  paused. 

His  hand  dropped. 

With  his   finger  on    the    trigger,    Morgan 


"Shoot! 

When  the  agonized  fellow  had  seen  Kit's 
life  threatened,  he  had  sprung  forward  to 


dash  aside  the  weapon  that  threatened  his 
brother ! 

His  hand  had  dropped  to  his  side  when  he 
remembered  that  Kit  was  au  enemy  and  an 
escaping  prisoner. 

So,  when  Morgan  asked  him  the  mute 
question,  Ben  groaned: 

"Shoot!" 

Morgan's  keen  eye  leaped  along  the  bar- 
rel and  sighted  the  llyiug  horseman,  and 
Ben  shuddered,  and  unconsciously  mur- 
mured : 

"Poor  mother  I" 

The  trigger  was  not  drawn. 

Instead,  the  rifle  was  dropped  into  the 
hollow  of  Morgan's  arm. 

"  Blast  me  if  I  can  do  it,  Ben,"  he  said. 
"  He's  too  grand  a  fellow  to  be  made  crow's 
meat  of  just  yet." 

Then  to  an  officer : 

"  Stop  all  pursuit.  We  can't  afford  to 
waste  the  time  it  would  consume  to  overtake 
them,  for  they  have  now  plunged  into  the 
woods ;  but  keep  a  sharper  lookout  on  the 
others." 

In  the  edge  of  the  woods  Kit  came  to  a 
halt. 


Kit  was  not  that  kind. 

He  wanted  to  see  what  steps  the  enemy 
would  take,  so  as  to  try  and  offset  each  move 

Great  was  his  surprise  at  finding  that  pur. 
suit  was  not  given. 

"That's  funny,"  he  muttered. 

"So  'tis,"  grunted  Sam. 

"They're  going  to  move  on." 

"Yes;  and  they  seem  to  be  in  a  hurry." 

"It  may  be  that  they  have  received  word 
that  they  are  pursued,  and  are  in  haste  to 
get  away." 

"  Like  as  not.    Hope  so.' 

Kit  was  very  wary. 

He  could  not  be  sure  that  this  same  triek 
was  not  being  resorted  to  for  the  purpose  of 
capturing  him  without  any  chase. 

As  near  as  he  could  judge  the  whole  body 
of  cavalry  moved  on,  but  he  could  not  be 
positive  thai  there  were  not  a  score  or  morn 
of  the  raiders  lying  in  wait  just  beyond  tin 
willow  hedge  which  had  stood  to  him  in  thij 
light  of  a  friend. 

He  was  not  going  to  fall  into  so  simple  a 
trap  as  this  if  there  were  such  a  one. 

Of  course,  as  the  reader  knows,  there  was 
no  necessity  for  this  precaution,  but  it  is  the 
keenness  of  mind  that  looks  out  for  such 
traps  that  makes  a  good  soldier  and  scout. 

Sam  went  nearly  half  a  mile  inside  the 
woods,  and  then  emerging,  crept  toward  the 
road  in  the  concealment  afforded  by  a  cross- 
hedge. 

On  reaching  .the  road,  he  found  it  abso- 
lutely clear. 

This  he  signaled  to  Kit,  who  at  once 
came  forward  with  the  horses. 

Soon  they  were  cantering  back  over  the 
road  which  they  had  crossed  only  a  short 
time  before  in  the  character  of  prisoners. 

Before  very  long  they  eneouiif  ereda  squad 
of  Union  cavalry,  in  hot  pursuit  of  Morgan. 

A  halt  of  a  minute  was  made. 

Kit  told  the  commanding  officer  all  he 
knew,  and  in  turn  received  for  himself  and 
Sam  a  brace  of  revolvers  each. 

On  being  taken  prisoner  Kit  had  not  been 
searched,  and  the  message  given  him  to  de- 
liver was  still  sale  in  its  hiding-place. 

So,  now  that  they  were  armed,  he  deter- 
mined to  go  in  and  dcliv  or  the  message  as  if 
nothing  had  happened,  instead  of  returning 
into  the  lines. 

Chance  threw  across  their  path  the  same 
rank  rebel  woman  who  had  laughed  so  scorn- 
fully just  before  they  were  captured. 

She  stared  blankly  at  them. 

In  her  surprise  her  mouth  opened  as  weH 
as  her  eyes. 

"  I — I — thought " 

She  stammered  out  these  words,  and  then 
paused,  unable  to  say  more. 

"You  thought,  Morgan  had  gobbled  us  up. 
Well,  so  he  did,"  said  Kit. 

"  Then  how  in  the  world " 

"  Did  we  get  here,  eh  ?  You  wouldn't  be- 
lieve it,  I  suppose,  if  I  told  you  that  the 
tables  had  been  turned  and  Morgan  had  been 
gobbled  up  ?" 

"No,  I  wouldn't!"  she  snapped. 

"Then  I  won't  tell  you  so,"  said  Kit.  "Get 
up !"  this  last  to  the  horse,  and  away  he  and 
Sam  again  scurried. 

When  out  of  hearing  both  gave  vent  to  a 
hearty  faugh. 

"She  believes  dead  sure  that  Morgan's 
been  captured,"  said  Sam,  with  a  chuckle. 
"Poor  dear!  She  won't  sleep  soundly  to- 
night— she  won't  dream  pleasant  dreams." 

And,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  Sam  was  right, 


12 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


and  the  Secesh  woman  knew  no  peace  of 
mind  until  she  learned  that  Morgan  had 
safelv  reached  the  rebel  lines  after  making  a 
raid  extending  completely  around  the  Union 
army. 

Laughing  merrily  over  the  woman's  eTi- 
deut  discomposure  of  mind,  and  making 
light  of  their  really  exciting  experience  in 
being  captured  and  then  making  their  es- 
cape, time  slipped  by  very  rapidly  and  al- 
most ere  they  knew  it,  they  had  arrived  at 
their  destination. 

Kit  delivered  the  message  of  which  he  was 
the  hearer,  and  was  inld  that  another  would 


lie, 


d  tu 


They  did  not  start  to  return  until  some 
time  after  sundown. 

The  moon  did  not  rise  until  after  eleven, 
so  it  was  thought  wiser  to  delay,  and  ride 
by  moonlight  iuto  the  lines,  thau  to  start 
kite  in  the  afternoon  and  approach  the  lines 
in  the  darkness. 

About  eight  o'clock  they  started  on  the 
back  trail. 

They  had  ridden  along  at  an  easy  gait  for 
over  an  hour,  when  Sam  unburdened  his 
mind  of  an  idea  that  had  been  occupying  it 
for  the  last  quarter  of  an  hour. 

••  Kit,"  lie  said,  "  jest  go  easy  a  minute." 

■   What's  up?" 
'What  do  you  think  of  the  road?" 

"Just  what  I  thought thismoruing — which 
is  that  it  is  a  blamed  poor  one." 

"What,  then,  do  you  mean?" 

"That  this  ain't  the  same  road." 

"You're  decidedly  off,  Sam.'' 

"Maybe,'    drily. 

"Well,  come,  say  something  more.  Why 
do  von  think  we're  on  the  wrong  road  ?" 

"Because  things  don't  look  the  same  to 
me  as  they  did  when  we  rode  to-day— along 
some  other  road." 

"You  think " 

"I  know,"  Sain  interrupt!"'. 

"You  think " 

"  I  know!" 


rank. 

"  Well,  we'll  go  on,  anyhow,"  he  said,  not 
wishing  to  give  in  un'il  he  was  convinced. 

"All  right." 

"  You  needu't  go  i*  yu  don't  wish  to." 

"Are  you  going?" 

"  Yes." 

"Then  so  am  I." 

"But " 

"lint  you're  going  wrong  all  the  same," 
said  Sam,  bluntly. 

■■  We  can't  get  veryfar  out  of  the  way, 
anyhow,  and  soma  cross-road  will  lead  us 
back  if  we  are  astray.  See  the  north  star 
there!— that  shows  lis  that  our  course  has 
been  directed  toward  the  right  point  of  the 
compass." 

Sam  shrugged  his  shoulders  by  way  of 
reply. 

They  weut  more  slowly  after  that,  and 
presently   Kit    began   to  admit    to  himself 


right  angles,  they  rode  along  this  in  hopes 
of  striking  the  right  road.  But  the  result 
was  another  parallel  highway,  no  object 
along  which  struck  them  as  being  familiar. 

Kit  began  now  to  look  grave. 

They  were  lost. 

There  was  no  discounting  this  disagreeable 
fact. 

Prudence  suggested  that  they  should  face 
about  and  retrace  their  course,  and  spend 
the  remainder  of  the  night  at  the  place 
where  he  hail  delivered  the  message. 

But  he  did  not  like  to  give  in  beaten,  and 
so  they  rode  on. 

The  moon  would  soon  rise  now,  Kit  re- 
flected, and  by  its  aid  he  hoped  soon  to  put 
himself  straight. 

When  the  moon  did  at  last  rise,  it  did  not 
prove  of  as  great  assistance  as  Kit  had 
hoped. 

Of  course  it  made  objects  visible,  but  it 
could  not  make  st  range  objects  look  familiar, 
and  at  last  Kit  reined  in,  saying: 

Sam,  I  beg  your  pardon  for  doubting  your 
word,  and  now  acknowledge  that  I'm  a 
blamed  lunkhead,  if  you  know  what  that 
is." 

"  I  do,"  said  Sam. 

"And  you  agree  with  me?"    tartly,  for 
Kit  had  not  expected  Sam  to  take  him  as  be- 
ing literal. 
"Perfectly,"  was  the  dry  reply,  and  then 


square  of  large  dimensions,  which, 
turning  the  knife  and  remnants  of  tne  piug 
to  his  pocket,  he  held  up  between  his  thumb 
and  fort-linger. 

"See  that 2" 

"Yes." 

"  How  is  it  forsize?" 

"  Are  you  gettlug  crazy  that  you  ask  such 
a  question  ?" 

"Not  at  all.    I'm  in  dead  earnest.    How  is 
that  for  size?" 

"  It's  larger  than   I'd   want    to  put  in   my 
mouth,"  answered  Kit. 


fond  of  a  good  chew  r-i  plug  tobacco?' 

"Yes." 

"Well,  seein' as  this  is  the  last  I'll  ever 
clap  iuto  my  mouth  I've  taken  a  piece  of 
extra  size!" 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?" 

There  was  alarm  in  Kit's  tone  as  he  asked 
this  question. 

"Mean?    Don't  you  know ?" 

"No.  For  Heaven's  sake  stop  talking  iu 
riddles,  and  say  what  you  mean.  Come, 
spit  it  out!" 

"  We've  ridden  inside  the  rebel  lines !' 

CHAPTER   IX. 

A    TIMELY    ABRrVAL. 

Belle  Langdon  shrauk  from  Buck  Toole 
with  terror  in  her  face  and  eyes. 

Perhaps  he  was  drunk? 

No;  a  single  glance  assured  her  that  he 
was  sober,  and  knew  precisely  what  he  was 
saying,  and  she  gasped: 

"  Must  marry  you  within  an  hour?" 

"  Yes." 

"Must?" 

"  Yes,"  again. 

"  I  cannot." 

"  It  is  necessai  v." 

••  But,  why  ?" 

"Because,  unless  you  do,  you  may  all  be 
murdered  in  cold  blood." 

••Would  you " 

"Oh!"  lie  interrupted,  "  I  wouldn't  harm 
a  chicken.  I'm  .surprised,  .Miss  Belle,  that 
you  should  start  to  ask  me  if  I  intended  to 
murder  you  all." 


"I  do  not  understand.  Yon  say  that  we 
all  stand  iu  danger  of— of — of " 

"Of  being  slaughtered.  That  is  precisely 
what  I  mean." 

"And  how " 

"How  does  your  marrying  me  alter  the 
ease?" 

"Yes." 

"  It  does,  considerably.    Now " 

At  this  moment  Mr.  Langdon  crossed  the 
threshold. 

"Oh,  papa!"  cried  Belle,  "I'm  so  glad 
you've  come,"  and  she  sprung  to  his  side  and 
i-luiig  convulsively  to  his  arm. 

"What  has  happened    to  agitate   you  so  ?" 

he  said.  "  Has "  and  interrupting  himself 

he  glanced  sternly  at  Buck  Toole. 

"He  says  we  are  iu  danger  of  being  mur- 
dered." said  Bell.-,  quickly,  with  a  shudder. 

"Can  you  explain  this?"  and  the  parson 
ga/.ed  tixedly  at  Buck. 

"  I  can." 

"Then  do  so." 

"  Very  well.  Now,  Mr.  Langdon,  I  chanced 
to  get  wind  an  hour  or  so  ago  that  a  party  of 
cutthroat  guerrillas  intended  coming  up  here 
to  '  clean  out '  this  Union  nest,  as  they  calls 
it." 

"Well?" 

"  Well— I  ain't  time  enough  to  get  my  men 
together,  so  I  packs  off  here  to  onct,  afeard 
that  I  won't  get  here  iu  time." 

"Well  ?"  again. 

"  Well,  here  I  am,  ahead   of   that  bloody 

g^Ind— » 

"  I  want  to  save  you." 

"  That  is  your  purpose  ?" 

"It  is." 

"  And  how  is  it  to  be  done?" 

"  By  marryin'  Miss  Belle  to  onct,  before  the 
gang  gets  here." 

"Ah!" 

The  interjection  fell  from  Belle's  bloodless 


lips. 
Fr 


rom  a  distant  point  there  came  to  their 
ears  a  hoarse  shout. 

"That's  them  now,"  coolly  observed 
Buck. 

"See  here,"  said  the  parson,  sternly,  "are 


Fa'r  dealin' 


Dealing  fa'r,  as  1 
is  Buck  Toole's  motto.' 
"If  you  have  come  to  help  us  defend  the 

place  can't  you  do  so  as  well  without " 

"No,"   interrupted   Buck.     "I  can't  save 
you  unless  she's  my  wife." 
"  Where  does  the  difference  come  in  ?" 
"Just  here.    I  s'pose  you  remember  the 
time  when  your  Kit  came  home?" 
"I  do." 

'Then   you   know   as    how   nothing 'ud  a 
1  his  life  if  ." 
said: 


saved 


hadn't  stepped  forward 

•  '  You  know  me  to  be  true  to  the  South. 
That  man  is  mv  brother,  and  vou  eau'ttouch 
him.' 

"  Just  in  the  same  way  I  can  save  you  if 
I'm  able  to  step  up  and  say  : 

"'You  know  me.  Well,  this  man  is  my 
father-in-law,  and  this  woman  is  my  wife, 
and  you  can't  touch  any  one  here  without 
first  spilliu'  good,  loyal  Secesh  blood.'  " 

Having  delivered  himself  ot  this  speech  in 
a  very  dramatic,  tone  Buck  folded  his  arms 
and  surveyed  those  before  him. 

Another  yell  reached  their  ears. 

Belle  cowered  close  to  her  father's  side 

Poor  girl ! 

Brave  though  she  was,  the  prospect  of 
marrying  this  rough  man  terrified  her  be- 
yond expression. 

"  If  I  am  able  to  say  them  words,"  added 
Buck,  "or  leastways  somethiu'  to  the  same 
effect,  I  kuow  that  I  can  save  you.  But  if  I 
can't,  why  1  can't  save  you  lio  more'u  Ben 
could  have  saved  Kit,  if  lie  hadn't  beeu  able 
to  say,  "He's  my  brother!'" 

Still  another  Veil  came,  as  if  to  emphasize 
Buck  Toole's  words. 

"And  if  you  don't  help  us  in  the  way  you 

"Why,  you'll  all  be  murdered,  sure  as  fate. 
It  is  too  late  now  to  retreat— you  can't  get 
away.  And  you  must  decide  quickly.  Either 
Belle  becomes  my  wife  inside  of  the  next  ten 
minutes  or  else  blood  will   flow  like  water." 

"And  you  know  you  can  save  us?"  gasped 
Belle. 

"  Yes." 

He  held  out  his  hand. 

She  shrunk  away  with  a  shudder  and  a  low 
cry  of  terror. 

"Oh,  Harry— Harry !"  siie  wailed. 

"Quick!"  exclaimed  Buck.  "Will  you 
marry  me  to  save  your  father's  life  and  those 
ofall'the  others  on  the  mountain?  Or  do 
you  mean  to  refuse,  and  see  them  all  slain  in 
cold  blood?" 

It  was  a  cruel  questiou. 

Again  came  a  yell,  nearer  thau  the  preced- 
ing one. 

"  Their  blood  will  be  on  your  head !"  cried 
Buck,  excitement  iu  his  tone  and  manner. 

"  i  ih,  I  can't  become  your  wife!" 

"You  can— at  least  in  name,"  he  said. 
"You  needn'tlive  with  me  if  you  don't  want 

"  You  mean  that?"  eagerly. 

"  Yes." 

"  Upon  vour  honor?" 

"  Yes."  " 

With  averted  face,  for  she  loathed  the 
man,  she  stepped  forward,  her  face  whiter 
than  the  driven  snow  which  covered  the 
mountain  side. 

"Make  haste,  parson,"  cried  Buck,  and  he 
clutched  the  white  hand  much  as  the  vul- 
ture seizes  its  prey.  "There's  no  time  to 
lose.     Cut  the  ceremony  short!" 

For  a  second,  Mr.  Langdon  hesitated. 

His  good  sense  was  all  averse  to  perform- 
ing so  unholy  a  marriage. 

They  were  entirely  defenseless,  and  it  was 
terrible  to  think  that  all  these  innocent  peo- 
ple might  be  murdered. 

But  to  sacrifice  Belle!  sacrifice  his  only 
daughter! 

It  was  fearful  to  think  of  tying  her  for 
life  to  this  man. 

He  could  not  do  it,  he  thought,  and  he 
would  not. 

Then  came  another  yell,  followed  by  the 
shrieks  of  the  refugees  of  the  valley. 

"  Cut  it  short,  parson  I" 

With  a  groan,  Mr.  Langford  asked: 

"  Do  you,  Buck  Toole,  take  this  woman  to 
be  your  wedded  wife?" 

"Do  you,  Belle  Langdon,  take  this  man  to 
be  your  wedded " 

""What's  the  meaning  of  all  this?" 

Buck  Toole  started  in  surprise,  then  gnash, 
ed  his  teeth  in  rage. 

Belle  glanced  toward  the  door,  from  whioh 
direction  the  words  had  come,  then  snatoheel 
her  hand  away  from  Buck  Toole,  and  went 
staggering  toward  the  door. 

"Ben!"  sue  gasped. 


THE  WAR  LI3RARY. 


13 


Then  as  he  clasped  her  in  his  arms  her 
white  lips  brokenly  said  : 

"  ThankJGod— saved !" 

Mr.  Langdon's  back  had  been  toward  the 
doos,  but  turning  swiftly,  he  was  in  time  to 
see  Ben  catch  Belle  to  his  breast. 

"  Heaven  be  praised !"  exclaimed  the  par- 
son.   "  Your  coming  is  very  opportune." 

"  I  should  judge  so,"  with  a  very  stern 
look  at  Buck.  "Explain  the  meaning  of 
this  scene!"' 

"It's  easily  explained,"  said  Buck,  put- 
ting a  bold  face  on  the  matter.  "  You  heard 
those  yells  r" 

"Yes,  and  wondered  what  they  meant. 
Can  you  explain  them  ?" 

"Yes;  they  an-  from  t  lie  throats  of  a  party 
of  guerrillas,  who  intend  to  'clean  out'  the 
settlement." 

"Oh!  they  do?"  sneered  Ben.  "That 
made  it  necessary  to  persecute  this  poor 
girl?" 

"Do  not  look  that  way,  Ben?"  pleaded 
Belle.  "  Indeed— indeed— he  meant  me  no 
harm.    He  saved  my  life  not  long  ?" 

"  Is  that  so  ?" 

"  Then  I  will  give  him  a  chance  to  explain 
this  peculiar  scene ." 

Buck  Toole  briefly  stated  to  Ben  what  he 
had  said  to  Belle  and  her  father. 

To  Ben,  the  thing  looked  very  fishy,  and 
Axing  his  piercing  eyes  on  Buck,  he  slowly 
said : 

"  I  accept  your  statement  of  your  motives, 
for  my  father's  and  sister's  sake.  Otherwise 
I  might  be  tempted  to  disbelieve  you,  and 
order  the  men  I  brought  with  me  to  fill  you 
full  of  bullet  holes." 

Buck  Toole's  gaze  quailed  before  the 
searching  eyes  of  tin-  young  man. 

"Now,"  : slid  Bon,  releasing  his  sister,  and 
conducting  her  gently  to  a  sofa,  "how  are 
you,  my  mother:'"  pressing  a  kiss  on  thefore- 
head  of  Mrs.  Laugdnii,  who  had  boon  sitting 
a  silent  and  stupelied  spectator  of  all  that 
had  passed.  "  I  will  greet  you  more  to  my 
heart's  desire,  my  mother,  when  I  return," 
he  added,  and  ihen,  turning,  motioned  Buck 
to  toll, .whim. 

Outside  the  door  were  three  men,  who,  at 
a  word  from  Ben,  fell  in  behind  him. 

Quickly  they  went  to  the  point  where  the 
advancing  attacking  party  would  emerge 
into  the  valley,  if  they  emerged  at  all— 
which  Ben  very  much  doubted. 

Again  came  a  hoarse  shout. 

"  Singular  that  men  who  are  going  to  make 
an  attack  should  take  so  much  pains  to  ad- 
vertise the  fact,"  remarked  Ben. 

"  It  is  singular,"  admitted  Buck ;  and  Ben 
fancied  he  could  hear  his  teeth  chatter. 

A  minute  later,  and  suddenly  : 

Crack!  crack! 

Then  a  brief  pause;  then  again: 

Crack  !  crack ! 

"  Ha!  ha!  I  saw  the  head  of  one  come  up 
behind  that  rock  !"  exclaimed  Buck.  "I'm 
sure  I  hit  the  fellow." 

"Very  likely,"  said  Ben,  and  to  himself 
added:  "Two  shots  twice,  with  a  short  in- 
terval between.  A  likely  signal !  I  suppose 
it  means  for  tnem  to  retire." 

Perhaps  it  did ;  for  certainly  no  more 
shouting  was  heard,  nor  did  the  expected 
attack  take  place. 

Buck  found  shelter  with  one  of  the  fami- 
lies for  the  night,  and  in  the  morning  left 
the  mountain,  cursing  bis  luck  and  gnashing 
his  teeth  at  the  miscarriage  of  his  well  laid 
plan. 

For  a  whole  week  Ben  remained  on  the 
mountain,  and  this  visit  was  referred  to  in 
the  hasty  conversation  he  had  had  with  Kit, 
on  the  day  of  the  hitter's  capture  by  Mor- 
gan's cavalry,  of  which,  had  time  permitted, 
he  would  have  given  Kit  the  details. 

Then,  the  week  being  expired,  Ben  bade 
them  all  a  loving  farewell,  his  last  words  be- 
ing ones  of  caution  as  regarded  Buck  Toole. 

"  He  is  a  dangerous  man  and  a  thorough- 
paced villain,"  he  said,  bluntly:  "Do  not 
trust  him  under  any  circumstances;  and, 
father,  though  one  of  your  cloth  should  es- 
pecially be  averse  to  shedding  blood,  if  that 
man  should  come  here,  and  you  see  anything 
suspicious  in  his  actions,  do  not  hesitate  to 
shoot  him  like  a  dog.  The  South  can  easily 
afford  to  spare  the  aid  ol  such  men  as  he  is; 
in  fact,  it  is  the  Buck  Tooles  who  bring  dis- 
credit on  our  noble  cause." 

Then  he  went  away  again. 

His  earnest  advice  as  to  how  to  act,  should 
Toole  come  again  in  the  mountains,  was  not 
forgotten,  and  a  loaded  gun  was  kept  where 
Mr.  Langdon  could  readily  place  his  hand 
on  it. 

Belle  exercised  the  greatest  caution  when 
she  went  out,  to  never  be  out  of  sight  of 
somebody. 


But  days  passed  and  became  weeks,  and 
weeks  multiplied  into  mouths,  and  still 
nothing  had  been  seen  or  heard  of  Buck 
Toole. 

They  began  to  believe  that,  as  they  hoped, 
they  would  see  no  more  of  him. 

Then  one  day  a  paper  found  its  way  into 
their  hands,  containing  an  account  of  Fort 
Doim  Ison,  in  which  the  name  of  Kit  Lang- 
don was  mentioned. 

This  news  simply  whetted  the  appetites  of 
the  refugees  for  more,  and  after  that,  once 
a  week,  some  one  of  the  community  ventur- 
ed to  a  village  some  miles  distant  to  get  the 
papers. 

The  papers  brought  sorrow  to  the  hearts 
of  a  couple  of  the  families,  and  a t  last,  spread 
a  deep  gloom  over  that  of  Mr.  Langdon. 

There  was  an  account  of  one  of  Morgan's 
reckless  raids,  and  appended  to  it  was  a  list 
of  the  killed  and  wounded. 

In  the  list  of  killed  was  the  name—"  Ben 
Langdon." 

There  was  one  person  who  felt  as  great  a 
glee  at  seeing  that  name  in  the  list  of  dead  as 
the  Langdons'  felt  sorrow. 

Needless  to  sin  it  was  Buck  Toole. 

He  had  during  all  this  time  been  nursing 
his  desire  to  make  Belle  Langdon  his  wife. 


Langdon  lived  he  dared  not  employ  brute 
force. 

But  now ! 

Less  than  a  week  later,  Belle  Langdon 
mysteriously  disappeared ! 

CHAPTER  X. 

A     CLEVER     RUSE. 

For  just  one  minute  Kit  was  ready  to  de- 
clare thai  his  e pauion  had  gone  crazy. 

On  the  poiut  of  saying  so,  he  remembered 
how  he  had  once  before  been  mistaken  that 
night,  and  checked  the  words. 


he  said. 


"  I  don't  sec  how  we  could  do  it?" 

"We  have." 

"How  do  you  kuow?" 

"  Easily  enough.     I   heard   the   click  of 
musket  lock  a  minute  ago." 

"Where?" 

"Speak      lower,''     warned    Sam. 
picket  must  ii:n  e  been  asleep  and  s 


Tic 


And,  not  bem'  exactly  sure  whether  we 
passed  him  or  was  a  couple  of  rebel  officers 
ridin'  around  inside  the  lines,  he's  believed 
it  best  to  take  the  latter  view  as  the  right 
one,  and  so  did  not  fire  on  us  or  give  the 
alarm." 

"  I  do  not  see  how  it's  possible  for  us  to 
have  traveled  into  the  rebel  lines." 

"  It's  easy  enough,"  was  the  reply.  "  We 
just  executed  a  Hank  movement  around  our 
own  army,  and  as  might  be  expected,  have 
letehed  lip  just  here." 

Such  indeed  was  the  case. 

Kit  knew  that  they  had  been  in  the  saddle 
much  longer  than  was  necessary  to  reach 
the  Union  lines,  but  had  not  believed  that 
they  had  covered  as  many  miles  as  they  ac- 
tual! v  bad  done. 

Kit  was  stumped. 

The  picket  certainly  would  not  be  so  ac- 
commodating as  to  goto  sleep  again  and  per- 
mit them  to  pass  out  as  they  entered— un- 
challenged. 

Perhaps  Kit  Langdon  had  never  in  his  life 
been  placed  ill  so  great  a  quandary, 

"  If  I'd  only  been  guided  by  your  judg- 
ment," he  said,  regretfully. 

"You  wasn't;  so  that's  settled,"  was  the 
laconic  rejoinder. 

"  I  wish  I  had,  however." 

"  No  use  of  crying  over  spilled  milk." 

"No,  of  course  not.  But  how  are  we  to 
extricate  ourselves  from  this  dilemma?" 

"It  needs  a  wiser  head  than  mine  to  answer 
that  question." 

Kit  immediately  decided  that  it  needed  a 
wiser  head  than  his  also. 

Still  he  could  not  remain  idle,  could  not 
permit  himself  to  be  made  a  prisoner  in  such 
an  ignominious  manner,  without  at  least 
making  one  effort  for  freedom. 

As  he  sat.  there  in  the  saddle  cudgeling  his 
brain,  all  idea  occurred  to  him. 

The  boldness  of  the  scheme,  however,  took 
away  his  breath. 

He  uttered  a  little  gasp,  which  led  Sam  to 
inquire  what  had  entered  his  head. 

"  I've  got  au  idea,  Sam ;  but  to  work  it  re- 
quires a  coolness  and  courage  that  is  almost 
beyond  the  human." 


"What  is  it?" 

In  a  few  low  words  Kit  explained. 

"It  is  bold,"  assented  Sam,  and  then  he 
laughed  softly.  "  If  we  only  could  work  the 
racket,"  he  added,  wistfully. 

"  Can  you  suggest  anything  better?" 

"No." 

"  And  are  you  ready  to  try  my  plan  ?" 

"I  am." 

"  Then  fall  in  behind  as  if  you  were  my 
orderly." 

Sam  prompt h  obe\  ed.  and  then  Kit  started 
his  horse  forward  until  he  reached  an  inner 
picket  line. 

"Halt!"  he  was  ordered.  "Who  comes 
there?" 

"  Silence,  man!"  Kit  sternly  ordered.  "  Do 
not  speak  above  a  whisper." 

"Who  comes  there?"  stubbornly  repeated 
the  picket,  although  in  a  lower  tone. 

"A  diet  of  bread  and  water  for  a  few  days 
may  so  improve  your  eyesight  that  you  will 
know  an  officer  when  you  see  one,"  Kit 
threateningly  rejoined. 

The  man  was  overawed  by  this  assumption 
of  authority. 

"  I  didn't  know " 

He  began  in  an  apologetic  tone. 

Kit  cut  him  short. 

"Never  mind  arguing  the  matter,"  he 
tartly  said.  "  Now  answer  my  questions. 
Where  is  the  corporal  of  the  guard  ?" 

"In  the  tent  yonder." 

"Go  arouse  him,  and  tell  him  to  Make  his 
captain  and  bring  him  here." 

The  sentry  was  doubtful  what  to    \i. 

The  penalty  of  leaving  a  post  en:  i: .  ii.cially 
relieved  was  something  to  be  dream  n.  And 
yet  he  hardly  liked  to  take  it  upon  himself 
to  refuse  to  obey  one  who  spoke  so  author- 
itatively. 

Concluding  to  obey,  he  took  his  departure. 

"So  far  good!"  said  Kit,  in  a  low  tone. 
"  Now  if  the  moon  will  only  remain  behind 
those  friendly  banks  of  fleece,  I  believe  the 
scheme  can  be  carried  through  success- 
fully." 

The  sentry  was  much  relieved  at  finding 
the  two  horsemen  where  he  had  left  them. 

"You  obeyed  my  orders  ?" 

"I  did,  sir." 

"Did  you  tell  the  corporal  to  make  haste?" 

"  Yfjs,  sir." 

It  seemed  an  age  to  Kit  and  Sam,  but  it 
was  really  a  space  of  time  less  than  five  min- 
utes when  the  corporal  came  up  with  his 
captain. 

"Captain,"  said  Kit,  speaking  in  a  cau- 
tious tone,  which  at  once  caused  that  per- 
son to  form  an  idea  of  somethins:  important, 
being  in  the  wind. 

"Here,  sir,"  was  the  reply. 

The  captain  stepped  forward  and  saluted 
as  he  spoke. 

"Come  this  way— I  wish  to  speak  for  your 
ear  alone." 

The  rebel  captain  advanced. 

In  the  darkness  he  could  not  tell  whether 
the  suits  worn  by  Kit  and  Sam  were  blue, 
brown  or  green. 

"What  is  it,  sir?" 

"Information  has  just  been  received  that 
the  enemy  is  advancing  expecting  to  take  us 
by  surprise.  Orders  are  that  the  picket  line 
shall  be  quietly— absolutely  in  silence- 
drawn  in,  so  as  to  prevent  any  alarm." 

"  Yes— yes— of  course.  They  will  naturally 
expect  to"  first  come  upon  a  picket  line,  and 
will  not  believe  themselves  near  us  until 
they  encounter  one.  They  won't  meet  one, 
and"  the  lirst  they  know  of  our  nearness  will 
be  when  they  And  themselves  confronted  by 
a  line  of  battle." 

"  I  understand,  sir." 


"  Instruct  the  corporal  at  once." 

"I  will  do  so,  sir." 

"And  furthermore,  tell  the  corporal  to 
instruct  the  sentries  to  hold  their  file  abso- 
lutely. I  am  going  to  riue  down  the  line 
and  do  not  want  to  be  shot  down  by  friends." 

"Very  well, sir." 

The  captain  was  completely  fooled. 

Properly  he  should  not  have  accepted  any 
instructions  from  any  one,  save  a  known  su- 
perior. 

There  was  something  complimentary 
about  his  being  sent  for  by  one,  whose  tone 
implied  high  rank,  and  by  him  intrusted 
with  even  the  reasons  for   making   certain 


of  anything  else  than  that  he  was  considered 
a  very  important  personage. 

The  moon  still  remained  behind  the  fleeoe- 
banks,  and  Kit  rode  leisurely  away  for  a 
space,  and  then  came  back. 


THE   WAIL  LIBHABY. 


In  the  meantime  the  corporal  had  been  at 
work. 

The  outer  line  of  pickets  were  even  then 
falling  baek,  presently  passing  inside  of  the 
spot  where  Kit  and  Sam  then  were. 

The  moon  still  remained  hidden,  but  the 
fleecy  clouds  were  moving  swiftly,  and  Kit 
knew  that  iu  a  couple  of  minutes  the  face  of 
the  orb  of  night  would  be  unobseured. 

When  that  occurred,  it  was  necessary  that 

'  he  and  Sam  should   be  far  enough  away  so 

that  their  uniform  i  would  not  betray  then. 

It  was  a  ticklisii  position. 

The  whole  operation  was  of  an  exceeding- 
ly delicate  character,  and  the  least  circum- 
stance might  upset  everything. 

When  thev  found  themselves  outside  the 
picket  line,  from  tile  fact  that  the  pickets 
had  retreated  inside  of  their  position,  Kit 
drew  a  deep  sigh  of  relief. 

So  far,  everything  had  worked  to  perfec- 
tion. 

If  it  came  to  the  worst  they  a,  least  had  a 
straight  road  before  them  and  could  make  a 
goodraee  for  it. 

In  fact,  if  thev  escaped  injury  or  slaughter 
from  the  first  hie,  the  chances  would  be  in 
favor  of  their  getting  safely  away. 

"Now  then,  Sam.  follow  me,  and  be  very 
cautious,"  Kit  said,  iu  a  low  tone.  "Try 
not  to  make  any  move  that  would  arouse 
suspicion." 

"I  savey,"  returned  Sam,  cool  as  a  cucum- 
ber. 

Kit  started  his  horse  forward,  directly 
away  from  the  rebel  lines! 

He  had  told  the  captain  that  lie  was  going 
to  ride  along  the  lines,  while  uow  he  was 
going  at  exactly  right  angles  with  the  course 
mentioned. 


It 


a   circumstance   which,  if  noticed. 


i  arc 


iug  lor  the  first    sound   iu- 


would  be  ar 

Both  of  tl 
fact,  and  bo 
ed  their  ear: 
dicatiug  a  si 

The  moot 
white  cloud 
could  be  seen  moving  away  '. 

It  was  a  trying  moment. 
I     Both  felt  like  digging  spurs  info  the  flauks 
[of  their  horses  and  riding  for  all   they  were 
1  worth. 

Kit  lemembered  that  the  horses  had  al- 
ready traveled  far  and  were  considerably 
tagged,  and  beside  they  were  not  yet  out  of 
pistol  Mm;,  although  distant  far  enough  that 
the  color  of  their  uniforms  could  not  be  dis- 


tinguished. 


desire  to  make  a  dash, 
example  faithfully, 
th    they  moved    slowly 

angerous     vicinity,    and 
r    be 


eas\ 


mo  il 


eyelid 


neither    br 
rifle  shot. 

They  began  to  feel  confidence  iu  them- 
selves, but  continued  to  proceed  at  the  same 
slow  pace,  until  the  rebels  were  so  far  iu  the 
rear  that  thev  were  surely  unable  to  hear 
the  tramp  of 'the  feet  of  the  horses  those 
darimr  men  bestrode. 

Sain  sigualized  their  safely  by  a  hearty 
burst  of  laughter. 

"That  beats  the  Dutch,"  he  gurgled  out. 
"If  it  don't,  theu  I'm  a  sucker!" 

"  Luck  has  stood  bv  us  twice  to-dav,"  said 
Kit,  gravelv.  "We  have  got  out  of  two 
tight  boxes"." 

•'You  tell  the  solid  truth,  th.  r  ':"  cried 
Sam.  "I  say,  Kit,  if  a  fellow  was  to  tell 
about  this  affair,  do  you  think  anybody 
would  believe  him?" 


rapt 

by  their  own  sentries. 

Going  through  the  usual  military  form, 
they  at  last  passed  withiu  the  lines. 

Their  first  care  was  to  find  their  own  divis- 
ion, after  which  thev  picketed  their  horses, 
and  then  turned  in  to  get  what  little  rest 
was  possible  before  the  roll-call. 

As  for  the  rebel  captain,  he  kept  making 
preparations  all  night  long,  wondering  mean- 
while how  it  was  that  so  little  activity  was 
manifested  elsewhere  along  the  line. 

It  was  not  until  after  daybreak  that 
it  began  to  dawn  upon  his  mind  that  he  had 
been  fooled,  although  by  whom,  and  for 
what  purpose,  he  had  no  idea. 

To  him  it  looked  like  a  practical  joke,  but 
he  could  never  discover  any  clew  to  the 
joker. 

If  that  rebel  captain  is  still  living,  and 
chances  to  read  these  lines,  he  will  for  the 
first  time  become  aware  who  it  was  and  for 
what  purpose  he  was  called  from  his  quar- 
ters. 

The  corporal— ditto. 


This  latter  person  doubtless  has  many  an 
hour  puzzled  his  brains  over  the  mysterious 
officer  with  his  mysterious  orders. 

After  this  adventure  came  a  period  of  in- 
activity in  Kit's  army  life. 

He  would  have  liked  to  employ  the  idle 
|  time  in  paying  a  visit  to  the  mountain 
home  where  his  kindred  had  taken  refuge; 
but  it  was  a  time  when  furloughs  were  very 
charity  granted,  for  it  was  certain  that  be- 
fore very  long  a  great  battle  was  to  be 
fought,  in  which  everv  man  would  be  needed. 

After  the  fall  of  Fort  Donelsou,  the  rebels 
had  slowly  made  their  way  toward  Corinth, 
from  all  directions. 

At  the  place  mentioned  great  supplies  of 
stores  and  ammunition  were  concentrated,  as 
well  as  the  rebel  forces  under  Generals  Van 
Dora  and  Price.  Generals  Beauregard  and 
reatC     ' 

perhuman 
such  a  manner  as  to  bid  defiance  to  the  ene- 
my who  had  wrested  Fort  Douelson  from 
them,  there  scoring  a  victory  that  went  far 
toward  wiping  out  the  disgrace  of  previous 
defeats. 

Meanwhile,  U.  S.  Grant,  iu  command  of 
the  Union  army,  was  slowly  but  steadily 
advancing  in  the  direction  of  Corinth,  the 
retention  of  which  place,  being  a  great  rail- 
road centre  of  the  South,  was  ci,  the  utmost 
importance  to  the  Confederates. 

The  first  day  of  April  of  that  year  found  a 
portentous  look  on  the  face  of  every  mau  iu 
the  opposing  armies. 

Every  man  knew  that  the  clash  would  soon 
come,  and  that  when  it  did  come  it  would  be 
something  fearful. 

As  if  the  elemeuts  were  iu  sympathy  with 
the  lowering  brow  of  war  the  skies  were 
overcast  with  heavy  sullen-looking  clouds. 

After  much  threatening  these  opened  and 
let  their  suspended  Hoods  come  down,  and 
flic  roads,  already  bad,  became  almost  im- 
passable. 

But  this  daunted  not  General  Johnston— 
a  gallant  man  and  a  brave  one,  although  a 
rebel— and  his  army  moved  out  of  Corinth, 
and  struggled  on  through  the  mud  and  rain 
and  mire,  struggled  bravely  on,  Johnston  to 
pit  his  daring  bravery  against  the  bull-dog 
grit  of  Grant,  in  a  death  struggle  tor  victory  ! 

On  the  fifth  dav  of  April,  Saturday  being 
thedayof  the  week,  General  Johnston  and 
his  men  arrived  in  front  of  the  I'nion  lines 
some  time  after  the  fall  of  darkness. 

The  weather  had  changed. 

The  sky  overhead  was  clear  and  blue,  and 
file  myriad  stars  that  spangled  the  azure 
dome  looked  down  on  that  now  peaceful 
scene— peaceful  now,  but  destined  soon  to 
have  its  epiiet  broken  by  the  rebel  yell,  the 
Union  shout,  the  whistle  of  bullets,  the 
shriek  of  cannon  balls,  the  groans  of  men  all 
mangled  and  torn  and  dying;  to  have  its 
bosom  stained  with  the  red  life-blood  of 
noble  men— some  clad  in  blue,  some  clad  in 
gray. 

The  dav  dawned  at  hist. 

It  was  "the  Sabbath. 

And  it  was  a  Sabbath  day  too  calm  and 
bright  and  quiet  to  be  desecrated  by  a  wild 
battle  ill  which  thousands  of  human  beings 
were  to  meet — eager  to  shed  each  other's 
blood. 

Aud  yet  it  was  so  desercrated. 

The  day  had  barely  dawned  ;  some  of  the 
Union  soldiers  were  just  getting  breakfast. 
while  others  were  yawning  and  only  half 
dressed,  and  many  of  the  officers  had  not 
yet  risen. 

Not  one  thought  of  soon  being  called  upon 
to  face  bullet  aud  bayonet. 

But  suddenly  the  holy  calm  of  that  Sab- 
bath morning  was  rent  by  a  tremendous 
yell. 

While  the  Unionists  are  wondering  what 
it  means,  to  their  ears  come  the  crack  of 
musketry. 

Next  flying  men  are  seen— they  are  the 
pickets  wlin  have  escaped  with  their  lives. 

All  who  do  not  thus  come  flying  back — 
and  there  are  many  of  them— are  lying  out 
there  by  their  posts,  riddled  by  rebel  bul- 
lets, aud  bleeding  from  many  a  gaping 
wound. 

Now  out  of  the  cover  of  the  woods  conic 
dense  lines  of  men  clad  in  the  rebel  gray, 
aud  soon  they  come  sweeping  on,  impressing 
one  with  the'idea  of  some  immense  and  ir- 
resistible wave  that  will  sweep  everything 
before  it. 

Breakfast  is  deserted,  and  a  rush  is  made 
to  form  in  line  of  battle. 

It  is  a  complete  surprise  ! 

While  hatless  and  coatless  officers  try  to 
form  half  clad,  and,  in  some  cases,  panic- 
stricken  men  into  Hue,  the  gray  tidal-wave 
comes  resist lessly  onward,  and  presently  is 
heard  a    terrible    burst   of  sound— the  dis- 


charge of  a  thousand  muskets  at  once- 
bringing  death  to  many  a  poor  fellow,  and 
announcing  the  fearful  struggle  has  begun! 


CHAPTER  XL 


A  battle ! 

Who  can  describe,  it  and  its  thousand  hor- 
rible details  :-    Nobody 
Who  would    wish   to    describe    it  ?    "Very 

It  is  horrible  enough  and  terrible  enou^i 
to  describe  a  few  of  the  many  scenes.  Were 
all  the  horrors  to  be  crowded  into  one  mind 
the  brain  would  surely  turn. 

And  among  all  the  battles  of  the  war 
there  was  not  one  where  more  of  these  hor- 
rible scenes  were  to  be  witnessed  than  on 
Shiloh's  blood-drenched  field. 

It  may  not  be  out  of  place  to  say  here  that 
by  the  Confederates,  and  in  their  official 
papers,  this  nattlc  is  alluded  to  as  "  the  Bat- 
tleof  Pittsburgh  Landing." 

A  word  more  of  explanation. 

Generals  Johnston  aud  Beauregard  had 
preferred  the  fight  to  take  place  here,  and 
here  had  forced  the  issue,  so  that  Corinth 
might  escape. 

Another  reason  for  the  precipitate  haste 
with  which  the  Confederates  commenced 
the  battle  was  that  Johnston  wanted  to  try 
conclusions  with  Grant  before  certain  rein- 
forcements then  on  the  way— under  Buell, 
and  coming  by  easy  marches  from  Nashville 
— could  reach  him. 

It  was  a  good  plan,  and  indicated  his 
ability  as  a  general. 

And  so,  as  we  have  said,  that  lovely  Sab  ■ 
bath  morn  was  desecrated,  its  holy  calm 
broken  by  shriek  and  moan  and  anguished 
prayer,  while  bullets  whizzed  and  whistled, 
and  cannon  Dulls  shrieked  as  they  flew  on 
their  missions  of  destruction. 

The  Federals  were  completely  surprised. 

That  meant  almost  sure  defeat. 

The  rebels  knew  this,  and  it  gave  them 
new  courage— or  rather  lent  them  new  and 
greater  ferocity. 

The  scene,  as  the  Confederates  broke  from 
the  cover  of  the  woods,  as  the  pickets  came 
flying  in,  as  the  rebel  yell  split  the  air,  as 
the  Federal  soldiers  dropped  frying-pan  and 
coffee-can,  as  half  clad  men  rushed"  this  way 
and  that,  as  shouting  ami  cursing  officers 
tried  to  rally  the  men  and  form  them  into 
some  shape  whereby  to  repel  the  attack,  all 
this— and  much  more  than  this— formed  a 
scene  of  indescribable  confusion. 

There  were  pallid  faces  there. 

Ay,  and  plenty  of  them. 

Ah  unexpected  attack  always  breeds  a 
•panic,  and  unless  the  officers  are  prompt 
and  energetic,  besides  having  the  confidence 
of  their  men,  the  enemy  will  surely  find  an 
easy  victory. 

Presently  came  the  crash  of  musketry. 

It  told  of  the  fray  as  begun. 

Pale  cheeks  grew  paler. 

Trembling  limbs  trembled  still  more. 

Quivering  lips  quivered  more  rapidly. 

And  high  beating  hearts  pounded  so  heavy 
and  swift  that  they  seemed  desirous  of 
forcing  theu-  way  from  the  breasts  which 
contained  them. 

Brave  boys  in  blue ! 

Though  tin- chill  of  panic  was  on  them— 
and  who  could  blame  them  for  it?— they 
did  not  fly  as  cowards  would  have  done. 

No— no ! 

Even  when  they  knew  that  it  would  be 
useless  to  try— knew  that  they  could  not 
stem  the  gray  tidal  wave,  they  answered 
the  call  of  their  officers,  they  ooeyed  in- 
stantly 

And  out  of  the  confusion  lines  of  battl* 
sprung  as  if  by  magic. 

And  then 

A  hushed  aud  ominous  pause  for  a  briel 
space  of  time! 

Then  came  the  clash ;  and  the  terribla 
slaughter  was  begun— was  begun  to  last  all 
that  dav  long,  to  cease  ouly  when  the  sun 
went  down  and  they  could  no  longer  see  to 
do  the  bloody  work. 

The  Union  lines  fell  back. 


The 


ling  up. 


ing  the  rebels  iu  check  until 
everything  was  in  readiness. 

No'w  the  battle-line  was  strengthened,  and 
the  order  came: 

"  Stand  your  ground!" 

And  the  brave  boys  in  blue  stood  there 
like  men  carved  iu  stone! 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


15 


Against  the  newly  formed  line  the  Con- 
federates hurled  themselves  with  tremen- 
dous f oree. 

Almost  like  demons  the  rebels  fought 

A  pulsation  ran  along  the  Union  line. 

It  was  as  if  some  great  heart  had  given 
o»e  single  throb. 

The  shock  was  terrible. 

They  were  wavering  beneath  it. 

Then  came  the  cries  of  the  gallant  officers, 
putting  new  life  and  spirit  and  courage  into 
those  brave  men. 

Then  one  more  pulsation— another  throb 
of  a  mighty  heart— and  then  the  Confeder- 
ate! fall  back,  repulsed  with  fearful  loss. 

Then  came  the  cry : 

"Forward!" 

The  brave  boys  in  blue  advanced,  and  re- 
gained every  inch  of  ground  over  which  they 
had  retreated. 

Gaiuing  this,  they  paused  to  await  another 
terrible  onslaught. 

It  was  not  long  iu  coming. 

They  were  heroes  all,  were  these  boys  in 
blue. 

Still  they  were  only  human. 

Beneath  the  violent  shock  tiny  recoiled, 
and  could  not  again  recover  theground. 

Again  and  again  the  gray  host  came  to  the 
attack. 

Again  and  again,  with  greater  violence, 
deeper  confidence,  more  resistless  fury,  with 
each  one. 

Bitterly  did  the  Federals  contest  the  dis- 
puted field. 

It  was  wrenched  from  them  only  by 
inches,  but  wrested  from  them  it  was  surely 
beiug,  steadily,  although  so  slowly. 

For  over  twelve  hours  was  the  dreadful 
carnage  continued  in  the  front. 

In  the  rear  things  were  no  better. 

Nobly  did  Sherman's  division,  stationed 
on  a  ridge,  meet  the  terrific  onslaught,  and 
meu  went  down  like  grain  before  the  reap- 
er's scythe. 

Once  again  fate  forced   Kit   Langdon  to  a 


to  direct  their  movements, 

"  Take  command,  Kit,"  urged  Sam,  during 
a  momentary  lull. 

"I  do  not  like  to." 

"But  it's  our  ouly  salvation.  If  somebody 
does  not  go  to  the  front,  the  boys'll  break  a't 
the  next  attack,  and  they'll  be  branded  as 
cowards— which  they're  not." 

Nevertheless,  and  in  spite  of  Sam's  logic, 
Kit  was  loth  to  assume  any  command. 

But  it  was  forced  upon  him. 

His  colonel  came  past,  saw  the  confusion 
incident  to  being  unofficered,  and  instantly 
he  demanded  : 

"  Where's  Kit  Langdon  ?" 

"  Here,  sir,"  was  the  reply. 

Kit  stepped  forth. 

He  was  so  blackened  by  smokethat  he  had 
not  been  recognized. 

"Take  command  here!" 

Such  was  the  brief  order. 

He  was  not  asked  to  do  so,  he  was  ordered 
peremptorily. 

From  that  time  forth,  during  the  remain- 
der of  that  fearful  day,  he  remained  at  the 
head  of  that  little  bod'y  of  faithful  men,  and 
led  them  in  the  performance  of  deeds  of 
golden  valor. 

It  was  a  tight  against  odds. 

From  the  very  moment  of  the  first  onset 
the  advantage  had  been  with  the  Confeder- 
ates, and  slowly  and  surelv  thev  had  beaten 
back  the  gallaut  sons  of  the  North. 

The  condition  of  the  Federal  army  was 
growing  very  desperate. 

General  Johnston  could  not  have  chosen  a 
better  time  to  strike  before  the  Federal  com- 
mander, Buell,  arrived  with  his  reinforce- 
ments. 

On  a  ridge  in  the  rear  of  the  dread  and 
gory  field  a  square-jawed,  stern-faced  man 
paced  to  and  fro. 

Gloom  was  on  his  brow. 

It  was  Grant! 

Things  were  going  badly 

It  looked  as  if  naught  cm 
eral  army. 

If  Buell  could  only  get  there  iu  time! 

Buell  was  miles  away. 

Noon  had  passed. 

The  prospect  for  the  Union  army  steadily 
grew  more  and  more  gloomy. 

There  was  no  help  for  it. 

Everything  that  could  be  done  to  stay  the 
gray  tidal-wave  had  been  don.-,  and  nothing 
remained  save  to  obstinately  oppose  the  foe 
until  the  bitter  end. 

One  o'clock  came. 


could  save  the   Feil- 


at  each  fierce  onslaught,  even  though   it  was 
repulsed 

Two  o'clock  came. 

Still  that  stern-faced  man  paced  to  and  fro 


and  gh 

i  clock   l 


"  General  Johnston  has  been  killed  ?" 

This  news  came. 

Yes,  the  rebel  chieftain  had  fallen  on  the 
battle-Held,  mortally  wounded. 

Would  the  knowledge  unnerve  the  Con- 
federates ? 

Eagerly  a  sign  of  weakening  was  looked 
for,  but  none  came  that  was  observable. 

Though  Johnston  had  fallen  they  still  had 
Beauregard,  aud  his  name  was  an  inspiration 
to  every  heart  that  beat  that  day  beneath  a 
gray  coat. 

Four  o'clock  came. 

The  Federel  camp  was  in  the  possession  of 
the  enemy ! 

Five  o'clock  came. 

The  brave  boys  in  blue,  exhausted,  weak, 
and  faint,  were  'now  retreating  more  rapidly. 

In  fragments  the  companies  and  regiment s 
fell  back,  aud  ascended  the  ridge  we  have 
alluded  to. 

Every  man  believed  the  day  lost— as  lost 
it  was.  Every  man  also  believed  that  it 
would  not  be  long  before  the  whole  army 
would  be  swept  from  existence. 

Did  we  say  every  man  ? 

Ah !  we  did. 

It  was  a  mistake. 

There  was  at  least  one  man  whose  keen 
eye  saw  that  the  victorious  Confederates 
might  here  be  checked  in  their  triumphal 
progress. 

What  a  few  words  will  sometimes  accom- 
plish ! 

Messengers  flew  this  way  and  that. 

Scattered  commands  were  collected,  brok- 
en brigades,  cut-up  regiments,  separated 
companies,  were  massed  together  for  a  final 
stand. 

At  the  foot  of  the  ridge  was  a  narrow, 
deep  and  miry  ravine. 

Across  this  the  Confederates  would  have 
to  go  to  reach  the  forlorn  hope,  formed  on 
the  ridge. 

It  was  a  dangerous  place  for  the  rebels  to 
venture  into. 

Flushed  with  victory,  they  nelieved  once 
again  that  they  were  invincible,  ami  at  the 
word  of  command  they  rushed  into  the 
ravine. 

Now,  indeed,  came  the  climax. 

Back  of  the  Federals  was  the  river,  cutting 
off  further  retreat.  They  must  beat  back 
the  gray  host  or  perish  where  they  stood. 

Men  who  had  wives,  murmured  their 
names ! 

Men  who  had  children,  thought  of  them, 
and  brushed  away  a  tear ! 

Into  the  ravine  plunged  the  victorious 
rebel  army. 

Hark! 

What  was  that? 

It  is  a  peculiar  sound,  a  sound  that,  once 


conceivable  ang    , 

ly  hurl  into  eternity   many  an  unprepared 

soul. 

Kit  Langdon,  standing  where  he  could 
look  down  into  the  ravine,  saw  a  flying  frag- 
ment of  the  burst  shell  cut  a  man's  head 
from  his  shoulders. 

For  one  brief  second  the  headless  trunk 
retained  its  perpendicular,  a  jet  of  blood 
spurting  into  air,  and  then  with  a  convul- 
sive tremor,  it  went  prone  to  the  earth,  and 
there  quickly  was  clasped  iu  the  rigors  of 
death. 

Kit,  shuddering,  closed  his  eyes. 

Another  shriek  ! 

Another  shell  came! 

Again  it  claimed  its  victims  when  it  burst. 

That  one  keen  eye  that  had  seized  the 
possibilities  of  the  situation  was  responsible 
for  this. 

Among  the  brief  orders  which  had  left  his 
lips  was  one  to  the  gunboats  in  the  river,  of 
little  use  on  that  bloody  day  until  the  pres- 
ent 

Speedily  the  gunboats  had  reached  posi- 
tions commanding  the  ravine,  and  now,  last 
and  furious,  poured  shot  and  shell  into  the 
dense  ranks  ol  the  rebel  victors. 

The  gaps  filled  up,  aud  the  ranks  of  gray 
steadily  advanced. 

Than  they  came  within  range  of  the  gath- 
ered fragments  of  the  defeated  army,  stand- 
ing there  for  a  last  grand  effort,  shoulder 
to"  shoulder,  grim  faced,  grimed  with  the 
smoke  of  hours  of  battle,  slei  n-eved— gather- 
ed there  together  to  do  or  die ! 


Within  the  range  of  such  a  gathering,  the 
Confederates  came,  even  though  shot  and 
shell  from  the  gunboats  mowed  them  down; 
aud  then  rang  out  the  rolling  discharge  of 
musketry. 

The  forlorn  hope  had  the  advantage  of 
position,  being  above  the  onward  coming 
foe,  and  every  shot  told. 

Still  the  gray  host  rushed  on. 

The  gunboats  in  the  river  fired  faster  a»d 
more  furiously 

The  determined  men  on  the  ridge,  per. 
fectly  under  control,  calm  through  very 
desperation,  poured  down  on  the  foe  a  con- 
tinuous Are,  that,  combined  with  shot  and 
shell,  melted  away  the  Confederate  ranks  as 
swiftly  as  a  blazing  fire  consumes  a  sheet  of 
paper  that  is  thrust  into  it. 

Ye  gods !  It  was  grand  to  see  those  gray, 
coated  meu  push  onward,  over  the  bodies 
of  the  dead  and  the  dying,  without  fear  of 
death,  ouly  knowing  that  a  stubborn  foe 
was  before  them  who  must  be  conquered  at 
any  cost. 

They  were  heroes  all ! 

Give  them  that  just  meed  of  praise. 

They  deserve  it— God  knows. 

But  they  were  human;  and  flesh  and  blood 
could  not  long  withstand  the  fearful 
slaughter— their  ranks  dwindling  swiftly 
'neaih  shot  and  shell  from  the  river,  and  the 
murderous  discharges  from  the  deadly  artil- 
lery aud  musketry  above. 

At  last  they  halted. 

It  was  foolhardy— was  even  worse,  was 
«  illing  suicide — to  try  to  advance. 

They  fell  back. 

They  retreated  from  the  ravine. 

The  sullen  booming  of  the  artillery  became 
less  frequent,  aud  the  deadly  fusillade  of 
musketry  u  as  gradually  hushed. 

Then  the  curtain  of  night  descended  over 
the  scene. 

The  first  day's  battle  was  finished. 

It's  fierceness  was  attested  by  the  heaps  of 
dead  that  lay  strewn  all  over  that  contested 
ground. 

The  Federals  had  lost  their  camp — were 
beaten— were  exhausted. 

And  the  morrow? 

What  was  that  to  bring  forth  ? 

Ah!  how  many  men  asked  themselves  the 
question,  as  they  laid  down  on  the  bare 
ground  to  try  and  snatch  a  little  rest. 

CHAPTER  XII. 


sky,  when  caught  sight  of 
inrougua  rutin  the  leaden  canopy  of  the 
battle's  smoke,  gave  indication  of  an  ap- 
proaching rain-fall. 

At  last  the  rain  began  to  fall  in  sheets, 
drenching  the  earth  and  the  weary   soldiers. 

Few  of  the  latter  knew  that  the  rain  was 
beating  down  on  them. 

Exhausted  by  the  excitement  aud  fearful 
physical  exertions  of  the  day,  thev  slept  that 
profound,  sleep  that  is  almost  akiu  to  that 
of  death  itself. 

Cannon  might  have  thundered  above  their 
heads  and  it  would  not  have  aroused   them 


dreamless  Sleep. 

The  tap  of  a  drum— touched  however 
lightly— would  have  brought  them  to  their 
feet. 

The  order  to  "Fall  in!"  would  have 
awakened  the  dulled  senses  of  every  man. 

No  other  sound  could  recall  them  from 
that  lethargic  condition  which  held  mind 
and  body  under  such  absolute  control. 

They  knew  not  that  in  the  darkness — in 
the  rain— wading  through  new-bi  irn  rivulets 
-struggling  through  the  mud  of  the  roads— 
Buell's  army  had  arrived. 

Morning  dawntd. 

The  temperature  had  fallen  rapidly  during 
the  early  hours  ol  the  morning,  and  the  rain 
was  changed  into  sleet  and  hail. 


to  be  attacked. 

It  was  hardly  to  be  supposed  that,  after 
the  experience  of  that  Sabbath  day,  the 
Union  army  would  lone  the  fighting. 

Buttheydid. 

Buell's  reinforcements  were  men  every 
whit  as  brave  as  those  who  had  yesterday 
fought  on  the  bloody  field  of  Shiloh. 

They  went  to  the  front — to  win! 

Enthusiasm  was  written  on  every  face, 
and  every  man  was  eager  to  face  the  foe. 

"  Onward :"  was  the  order. 

Aud  onward  they  went. 


16 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


Bravely  the  host  in  gray  met  them,  and  for 
awhile  the  battle  raged  with  inconceivable 
fury. 

Then  went  up  the  cry : 

"  The  rebs  are  giving  away !" 

And  bo  they  were. 

But  not  for  long. 

They  rallied,  charged,  regained  theground 
they  had  lost,  and  from  the  ridge  the  heroes 
of  yesterday's  fight  swarmed  down  to  lend  a 
helping  hand. 

The  Confederates  were  checked. 

A  dashing  charge  of  the  boys  in  blue,  and 
the  rebs  were  forced  back  further  than  be- 

Biit  still  once  again  they  rallied. 

Then,  with  one  of  their  wild  yells,  they 
charged— hurling  themsohcs  against  the 
Union  lines  with  that  tremendous  force  and 
recklessness  which  characterized  the  lighting 
of  the  Confederates.  . 

Once  more  the  boys  in  blue  were  pushed 
back,  and  left  behind  them  many  a  brave 
comrade— some  dead,  some  dying,  some 
wounded.  .      ...       .,.  ' 

Many  of  the  latter,  in  that  wild  rebel 
charge,  were  trampled  to  death. 

Among  those  who  fell  just  as  the  retreat 
began  was  Kit  Laugdon. 

Sam  was  by  his  side  when  the  rebel  bullet 
struck  Kit,  but  he  could  not  catch  him  ere 
he  fell. 

"  Kit-Kit!"  he  cried.  ,, ,.     . 

He  dropped  his  weapon,  and  knelt  beside 
the  gallant  young  man  from  Kentucky. 

Kit  opened  his  eyes. 

He  smiled  faintly,  as  he  said  : 

"Go,  Sam,  do  not  remain  here,  lou  can 
do  me  no  good  and  every  man  is  needed 
now."  .__.  , .  „ 

"  1  don't  leave  you— not  if  I  know  myself, 
grunted  Sam. 

"But  our  lines  are  falling  back!  Ihe  rebs 
will  soon  be  between  us  ami  «.ur  tnends!" 

"  Let  'em.    That  don't  bother  me." 

And  devoted  Sam  remained  there  by  his 
wounded  comrade's  side,  while  the  rebels 
advanced,  went  past,  and  left  them  in  the 
rear. 

"  They'll  make  a  prisoner  of  you  now. 

gasped  Kit. 

"P'raps,"  said  Sam. 
i,     "  Go,  Sam,  try  to  reach  our  company." 
"Now,  jest  you   keep  quiet.     I'm  goin' to 
try  and  net  vo'u  out  of  harm's  way." 

He  stooped  and  picked  up  the  form  of  his 
friend. 

Kit  was  a  large  man  as  well  as  a  heavy 
one,  and  Sam  found  his  strength  taxed  to  its 
utmost. 
"  Let  me  try  to  walk,"  Kit  presently  said. 
Sam  placed  him  tenderly  ou  his  feet,  and 
supported  him  as  he  feebly  and  very  slowly 
walked  away.  ,    .     .  , 

Kit  was  really  unfit  for  the  task,  but  lie 
would  not  keep'  Sam  there  on  that  danger,  .us 
field,  where  he  was  liable  to  be  shot  at  any 
minute.  ,  .     , 

They  had  not  gone  far,  whenadeep-voiccd 
oath  drew  their  attention  to  the  person  who 
uttered  it.  . 

A  wounded  rebel  was  lying  very  near  to 
where  they  were. 

His  face  was  convulsed  with  hate,  and  his 
eyes  glowed   red    and    venomous,    as   they 
gazed  upon  these  two  men  clad  in  blue. 
Sam  saw  him  draw  a  revolver. 
He  was  going  to  shoot. 
"You     measly     Yankees!"      he     hissed. 
"You've  fixed  me,  curse   you!— and   now, 
blame  me,  if  I  don't  get  square!" 

Oath  after  oath  rolled  from  his  lips  as  he 
hastily  cocked   the  revolver,   and  then   he 
turned  it's  muzzle  on  Sam. 
Crack!  ,    , 

Sam  fell  heavily  to  the  ground,  dragging 
Kit  down  with  him. 

From  the  rebel's  lips  rolled  a  harsh  peal  of 
laughter,  and  a  string  of  blood-curdling 
„aths. 

"Iwisheyery  chamber  of  this  pop  had  a 
,  art  ridge  iii  it  f"  lie  cried,  with  Hauling  eyes. 
"  Id    find    a   Yank    for    all    but   one,    and 

that I've  got  only  one  left,  and  that's 

for  myself." 
Sam  was  now  rising. 

"Ha,  ha!— you  Yankee  dog— you  think 
you'll  get  revenge  on  me!    See  how  I  cheat 

you — you " 

He  placed  the  muzzle  of  the  weapon  to  his 
temple  and  pulled  the  trigger. 
Crack!  „     ,. 

With  a  half  uttered  oath  the  vile  lips 
ceased  to  move — became  silent  in  death. 

It  was  horrible  to  think  of  the  man  leaving 
the   world   with  such  venom  in    his  heart, 
with  such  foul  language  ou  his  lips, 
Kit  could  not  repress  a  shudder. 
He  remembered  Sam. 
"  Are  you  hurt  ?" 


"  His  bullet  just  grazed  my  arm,"  was  the 
cool  reply.  "There  wasn't  any  real  need  of 
uiv  taking  that  trouble,  but  I  didn't  know 
but  what  the  pop  was  full,  and  I  wanted 
time  to  fix  him  so's't  he  couldn't  bite  any 


"  About  how  badly  you  are  hurt  ?" 

"No." 

Nor  was  he. 

Once  more  he  helped  Kit  to  his  feet,  and 

they  went  slowly  forward  while  the  cutting 
sleet  and  hail  pitilessly  pelted  them. 

Presently  comes  to  their  ears  a  roar  of 
voices,  swelling  louder  and  louder. 

Both  face  the  direction  of  the  ridge. 

Thick  clouds  of  smoke,  hanging  low  over 
the  field,  make  it  impossible  for  them  to  see 
much. 

Fan. ugh  is  seen  to  tell  them  that  the  wild 
rebel  charge  was  in  vain,  that  they  have 
been  repulsed  !  And  more  than  that — that 
they  arc  routed,  broken,  in   confusion,  and 


"-Vilu 


Such  was  his  determination. 

There  he  remained,  unheeding  the  fierce 
storm,  minding  neither  the  thirst  that  he 
felt,  or  that  he  was  drenched  to  the  skin,  and 
cold  and  numb. 

Once,  and  once  only,  did  he  make  any 
move,  and  that  was  when  he  lifted  the  coat, 
noted  where  the  last  bullet  had  struck  Kit- 
in  the  head— and  then  dropped  the  coat  again 
and  sobbed : 

Dead— dead— dead !" 


urrah  !" 
Kit  cannot  help  it^the  excitement  leads 
bey. mil  the  dietatesof  reason  when  he  utters 
that  shout,  for  already  the  first  of  that  ttying 
rabble — once  army— are  near  enough  to  hear 
him. 

"  We  must  be  away  from  here  as  quick  as 
possible,"  remarked  Sam.    "In  about   five 
minutes  there'll  be  a  stampede  across  here 
which  nothing  can  resist." 
He  was  right. 
Kit  understood  it  also. 

He  called  all  his  strength  to  his  assistance. 
and  hastened  as  fast  as  possible  from  the  line 
of  the  rebel  flight. 
On — on  they  went. 
Kit  began  to  lag. 

"  Only  a  little  further,"  said  Sam,  encour- 
agingly. 

Kit  .'ailed  his  will   to   his  assistance,   and 
struggled   on    a   little    further,   and   then 
halted. 
"I  can't  go  further." 
So  he  weakly  gasped. 
Sam  danced  toward  the  ridge. 
He  saw  that  they  were  out  of  the  center  of 
the  retreating  mass. 

They  were  still  in  the  path  of  a  huge  and 
maddened  lot  of  stampeding  men. 

"  If  you  could  only  go  a  couple  of  hundred 
vards  further,"  he  said. 
Kit  shook  his  head. 
'■  It  is  impossible,"  he  said. 
"Try,  Kit." 
"i  can't." 

"  Remember  your  mother." 
"I  do." 

"  Then  for  her  sake  try    once  agam.    It  is 
almost  absolute  death  to  stay  here." 
Kit  shook  his  head  again. 
He  was  even  then  tottering. 
"For  your  father's  sake,"  pleaded  Sam. 
Kit  moaned  hollowly. 

"For  your  sister's  sake,  Kit.  Just  one  more 
effort." 

Something   like   a   smile   might  have  been 
seen  to  appear  on    Kit's  ghastly  face,  and  he 
made  a  move  as  if  bracing  himself  to  the 
task. 
Then  suddenly  he  reeled. 
A  cry  of  alarm  escaped  Sam's  lips,  then  an 
oath  and  a  curse  on  the  rebel  "  hose  musket 
had  sped    this   bullet  which  had  just  struck 
Kit. 
Ay,  Kit  had  again  been  hit. 
Throwing  up  his  hands,  his  eyes  closed,  he 
lurched  hcavilv  forward. 

Sam  tried  to  catch  him,  and,  in  tact,  did 
so,  but  in  such  a  manner  as  to  destroy  Ins 
own  equilibrium,  so  that  he  and  Kit  struck 
the  earth  at  the  same  time. 

In  a  minute  Sam  was  on  his  knees  beside 
Kit,  whom  he  turned  on  his  back  that  he 
might  see  his  face. 

It    was    whiter  than  marble,   and  set    as 
though  molded  in  iron  ;  and,  as  he  looked,  a 
deep  groan  burst  from  rough  Sam  Black's 
lips. 
He  reached  for  a  musket. 
He  cocked  it,  a  ferocious  gleam  m  his  eyes 
Crouching  like  a  tiger  over  Kit,  he  awaited 
the  mad  onset. 

As  the  panic-stricken  horde  came  ou  he 
silently  waved  them  to  the  right  and  to  the 
left  with  the  muzzle  of  the  musket. 

Like  sheep  the  terrorized  men  crowded 
close  in  each  other's  tracks,  and  once  the  di- 
vision had  been  made  thev  went  to  either 
side  of  Sam  and  the  loved  object  he  was 
guarding.  ,    _  . 

Sam  crouched  there,  stony-faced,  fierce  of 
expression,  and  with  the  threatening  weapon 
divided  friends  as  he  had  divided  his  foes. 

They  should  not  trample  Kit  under  while 
he  lived! 


CHAPTER  XIH. 

A  WILD  CHAKGE. 

It  was  as  lovely  a  spring  morning  as  one 

sees  in  the  course  of  years. 

In  the  camp  of  the  great  rebel  raider,  Mor- 
gan, a  bustle  was  visible. 

Preparations  were  in  progress  for  another 
of  those  dashing  exploits  which  had  made 
him  so  dreaded  and  had  rendered  him  fa- 
mous. 

Morgan  and  his  officers  were  quartered  in 
an  old-time  mansion,  the  once  elegant  lawns 
of  which  had  been  surrendered  willingly  as 
a  camping  spot  for  his  command. 

The  owner  of  the  mansion,  and  the  huge 
plantation  sin  rounding  it,  was  Confederate 
to  his  heart's  core,  as  were  also  all  the  mem- 
bers of  his  family. 

Two  sons  were  in  the  ranks  doing  what 
thev  could  to  help  the  cause,  and  his  high- 
spirited  daughters  mourned  because  then- 
sex  kept  them  out  of  the  field. 

With  such  people  it  can  be  easily  imagined 
that  Morgan  and  his  men  were  made  wel- 
come, and  that  everything  the  place  af- 
forded that  tended  to  comfort  was  placed  at 
the  rebel  commander's  disposal. 

Since  sunrise  Morgan  had  been  up  and 
astir. 

He  paced  the  broad  piazza  restlessly,  ever 
and  anon  catching  up  his  glass  and  surveying 
the  road  where  it  wound  in  the  distance  over 
a  hill. 

His  face  was  lighted  with  an  expression  of 
expectancy,  which,  as  time  dragged  by,  was 
coupled  with  another  of  vexation. 
He  evidently  was  in  expectation  of  news. 
"Curse   the    luck!"   he    growled    at    last. 
"Why  don't  he  come?" 
"You  are  impatient,  general." 
Morgan  turned  swiftly. 
"Ah!  you,  Laugdon?" 
'   ^  es;"  with  a  laugh. 

".I  ll:-l    UD  f"  . 

"  Yes.  I  knew  there  was  no  use  of  looking 
for  the  messenger  before  this  time,  although 


you  have  been  looking  for  him  for  an  hour 
past." 
"  So  I  have." 

"  You  are  not  usually  so  impatient.' 
"I  know  it.  But  the  coolest  of  men  gel 
that  way  sometimes,  just  as  the  jolliest  and 
most  careless  man  cannot  escape  an  occasion- 
al attack  of  the  blues.  For  the  same  reason, 
perhaps,  I  am  strangely  impatientthis  morn- 

"'imr  hostess  has  bade  me  to  say  that 
breakfast  is  ready,  and  to  insist  upon  youi 
coming  in  to  partake  of  the  same  before  it 
has  grown  cold." 

"But " 

"  Pshaw,  general  !  this  anxiety  is  unbecom- 
ing to  you.  It  would  dispirit  your  men  to 
see  you  so.     Shake  it  off." 

"I  will  do  so,"  was  the  rejoinder.    "You 
are  a  good  fellow,  Langdon.    I  wish  I  had  a 
few  thousand  like  you— and  your  brother, 
he  added,  after  a  seconds  pause.  . 

"  Kit  is  a  hero."  Ben  warmly  said.  "He  is 
one  of  the  grandest  and  bravest  fellows  who 
ever  lived."  . 

"  I  believe  you.    But  now  let  us  go  in. 

Morgan  entered  the  house. 

Hen  paused  to  give  an  order  that  U  a  mes- 
senger came,  he  was  to  be  brought  right  in, 
and  then  followed  his  commander. 

The  afternoon  of  the  day  previous  a  scout 
had  brought  in  a  report  which  had  led  to  the 
preparations  visible  this  morning. 

It  was  to  the  effect  that  a  tram  was  ex- 
pected to  pass  over  a  railroad  some  miles  dis- 
tant. ,.      .     . 

If  the  information  was  correct,  the  train 
was  loaded  with  supplies  of  all  kinds— in- 
cluding medicines— tor  the  Federal  army, 
and  was  but  imperfectly  guarded,  the  tracks 
running  through  a  section  of  the  country 
previously  conquered  by  the  Federals,  and 
therefore' believed  to  run  little  or  no  risk. 

As  a  consequence  the  train  earned  only  a 
few  soldiers,  a  mere  handful,  just  enough  to 
make  a  showing  to  intimidate  rebel  sym- 
pathizers along  the  route. 

Morgan  kuew  the  Confederate  army  to  be 
greatly  in  need  of  the  very  supplies— partic- 
ularly the  medicines— reported  te  be  on  board 


THE  WAR   LIBRARY. 


and  ho  hail  iiisUuitly  made  up    his 
apture  it  if  possible. 

lesneiigers  had  been  dispatched  im- 


home  of  his  parents,  ami    Hit 
with  tailtl. 

Poor  Harry! 

His  lighting  'lays  miv  over 


loubting  hearts,  am! 
art  of  Ruck  Toole. 
;ii  to  foresee  that  if 
whipped  in  the  eom- 
hI  himself  placed  in 
;  had  in  the  mean- 


Morgan  had  finished  his  breakfast',  thev  were 
ready  for  a  start. 

Now  followed  one  of  those  swift,  inspirit- 
ing gallops  across  country,  and  in  three 
hours  the  raiders  wviv.  in  a  piece  of  woods 
near  a  small  depot. 

To  this  Morgan  mad.'  his  way. 

The  station  agent,  who  was  telegraph  op- 
erator as  well,  was  alone  in  the  depot. 

He  looked  up,  nodded  condescendingly  to 
the  man  dressed  in  a  butternut  suit  and 
slouch  hat,  whom  he  took  to  he  some  old 
farmer,  and  went  on  with  his  work. 

Click— click— click  went  the  instrument 
under  his  deft  Angers. 

"You're  calling  Morgan  some  hard  names," 
remarked  the  man  in  the  butternut  suit. 

"You  understand  il »"  queried  the  operat- 

"  Yes,"  quietly.  "But  go  on;  I  like  to 
hear  you  give  it  to  Morgan." 

eports  have  been  coming 

the  last  few  minutes  that  he 

has  been  seen,  evidently  aiming  toward   the 

railroad.   Howl  would  like  to  see  that  famous 

cut-throat  for  about  one  minute." 

"Would  you?" 


He 


■yes  , 


"I'd  put  a  hole  in  his  head  as  quick  as 
wink.  He'd  never  leave  this  office  alive. 
I'd  give  fifty  dollars  to  see  him.' 

"Then    hand    out    your  money,   for  I'm 


lted  instantaneously. 


aid  Morgan,  grimly.  "  I 
lid  putting  your  threat 
ow  sit  down  and  tele- 
aud  mark  yon — I  under- 
of  the  instrument  and 
lay  me  false,  I  shall  cer- 

ved. 

•tation   he  stated  that  it 

Morgan's   having  been 

1  mation  was  reliable  and 


On    tl 


e.-e   assurances    tin-   train  proceeded 
ay,  but  was  brought  to  a  halt   by  a 

danger  signal  on  arriving  at  this  particular 

station. 
From  the  woods  Morgan's  men  nowswarm- 


.•oiniuaud,  and  then  called  on  his  men  to 
fire. 

One  volley  they  poured  into  the  ranks  of 
Morgan,  and  then  were  swept  from  thepath 
of  the  victors. 

In  this  lire  Ben  Langdon  received  a  serious 
wouud,  which  necessitated  his  going  to  the 
Hospital  alter  returning. 

The  train  fell  a  prey  to  the  daring  Morgan 
raiders,  and  such  su'oplics  as  could  nol  he 
■allied  oil  were  destroyed  on  the  spot. 


At  last  Harry  l'.riggs,  as  he    passed,    called 

-  lieu  was  exceedingly  sorrv  on  linding  that 
Harry  had  lost  a  hand",  and' felt  a  keen  sym- 
pathy lor  thepour  fellow  when  he  ventured 
jpinion  that,  maimed  as  he  now  was, 
ryhi 


juld  ni 

"We'll  settle  that  at  once!"  exclaimed  Ben. 
"  We'll  go  and  pay  them  a  visit  if  I  can  find 
the  time." 

Shiloh  was  lost  to  the  rebels. 

The  officers  knew  that  some  little  time 
must  elapse  before  any  new  engagement 
would  take  place. 

Ben  felt  that  he  could  honorably  leave  for 
long  enough  to  pay  a  visit  to   the  mountain 


Hatty    felt  comforted. 

Now,  if  he  could  only  get  rid  of  the  liauut- 
lg  fear  that    Belle  had  ceased  to  love  him — 


had  sundered 


a  noble  girl,  and  will  only  do  what 
If  she  decides  against  me  I  shall  at 
w  that  she  acted  from  noble  im- 


But  he  did  not  wish  to  go  directly   to   her. 

Ben,  however,  insisted,  and  Harry  finally 
reluct  lantly  consented  to  bear  him  com- 
pany. 

It  was  tin  undertaking  not  without  great 
peril  to  Ben  to  pay  the  contemplated  visit, 
since  it  was  necessary  to  cross  iuaii\|niilos  of 
country  now  in  possession  of  his  enemies— 
the  Union  soldiers. 

They  started  on  foot,  since  in  this  wav 
they  would  attract  less  attention  than  oh 
horseback. 

The  arm  that  Harry   carried  in  a,  sling   at- 


their  route. 

When,  however,  they  drew  near  that  sec- 
tion where  Ben  was 'personally  known,  it 
was  deemed  prudent  to  make  a  wide  detour, 
and  finally  reach  the  home  of  his  parents  by 
the  unused  mountain  paths. 

ting  early  one  morning,  they  hoped  to 


falle 
lis,,-,. 


it  a 
It  a  lire 
against 


suitable  s] 
both  for  ec 
possible  wild  beasts. 

The  fire  was  kept  up  all  night  long  with- 
out materially  interfering  with  their  rest; 
and  the  next  morning  they  started  on  their 
wav  much  refreshed,  and  their  hearts  swell- 
ing in  anticipation  of  the  now  not  distant 
meeting. 

Along  the  rugged  mountain  paths  they 
toiled  for  nearly  half  an  hour,  when,  as  tbey 
emerged  from  a  dense  growth  of  bushes, 
Ben  suddenly  vented  aery  of  horror. 

"  What  is  the  matter:'"  asked  Harry. 

"Mj7  God!"  exclaimed   Ben,  in  a  shudd 


nig  vote 


'Sec  the 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

BUCK   TOOLE'S   VILLAINY. 

No  sooner  had  Buck  Toole  seen  the  name 
of  iieu  Langdon  in  the  list  of  the  killed  than 
lie  began  to  form  plans  for  the  abduction  of 
Belle. 

He  had  no  less  regard  for  Kit's  bravery  or 
auger,  but  he  believed  that  as  Kit  was  in  the 
Union  army,  he  had  less  to  fear  from  him, 
since  Kit  would  not  dare  venture  into  that 
section  of  the  country  where  Ben  could 
safely  come  and  go  at  pleasure. 

At 'least  such  was  the  position  of  affairs  at 
the    time,  although    as    a  matter  of  tact    it 


ire  tin 
ling    i 


del- 


This  was  decided    bev 1   question  bv  the 

battle  of  Shiloh. 

We  will  not  progress  ahead  of  the  inci- 
dents of  our  story. 

The  fall  of  Fort  Donelson  had  taken 
place. 

This  was  a  bad  blow  for  the  Confederacy, 
aud  for  a  little  there  was  fear  in  many  a 
rebel  heart  that  it.  was  the  first  blow  that 
set  in  motiou  the  disintegration  of  the  seced- 
ing states. 

This  fear  to  some  extent  haunted  Buck, 
who  kept  well  posted  on  the  movements  of 
affairs  in  the  army. 

The  reports  of  the  state  aud  strength  of 
the  rebel  army  at  Corinth,  aud  the  certainty 
felt  by  the  rebel  generals  of  gaining  a  de- 
cisive victory  in  a  few  days,  lent  new  cour- 


l  lortune  he  wished  1o  carry 
tintain  valley,  he  would  not 
oment  in   putting  his  plans 

only  a  woman ! 
n  iu  love  with  Belle,  that  is, 
aild  fall  in  love  with  any- 
d  do  almost  anything,  no 
•  and  disreputable,  to  force 
ig  him.  If  doing  so  meant 
.,  his  love  was  of  that  char- 
inted   nothing  to    do   with 


for  and   against, 


He  weighed    the 
himself  as  well  as  lie  could. 

The  conclusion  reached  was,  that  he  could 
safely  put  his  villainous  scheme  into  execu- 
tion. 

From  the  fact  of  having  seen  and  heard 
nothing  of  Buck  Toole  and  his  guerrilla 
baud  for  such  a  length  of  time,  Belle  had 
grown  less  fearful  of  meeting  him. 

Now  aud  then  she  had  wandered  beyond 
the  limitsof  the  little  valley  when  out  for  her 
daily  ramble. 

It  was  a  fatal  day  when  she  permitted  her 
steps  to  wander  whither  there  was  nobody 
to  see  her. 

Buck  Toole's  minions  were  lying  in  wait. 

Their  orders  were  not  to  show  themselves, 
but  to  wait  until  they  could  seize  her  un- 
perceived   and  then  bear  her  silently  away. 

This  was  prompted  by  the  dread  he  could 
not  help  but  entertain  of  the  young  man 
who  bore  the  name  of  Langdon— Belle's 
brother  Kit— who.  by  some  fatality  might 
cross  his  track  and  punish  htm  promptly  for 
the  dastardly  deed  he  contemplated. 

Belle  was  very  sad  of  face  on  this  lovely 
April  afternoon. 

She  could  not  help  thinking  of  Ben — dear, 
brave,  noRte  Ben  ! 

"  Dead !"  she  murmured  to  herself.  "  Can 
it  be  true?  It  seems  so  like  a  dream.  If  I 
had  seen  him  die  perhaps  I  could  better  re- 
alize it.  But  to  merely  see  his  name  in  that 
printed  list— I  can't  realize  its  truth." 

Thus  she  communed  with  herself. 

Many  a  woman  who  reads  these  lines 
will  comprehend  Belle's  feelings -the  feel- 
ings that  prompted  the  utterance  of  these 
words. 

They,  too,  some  of  them,  saw  the  names  of 
loved  "ones  in  such  a  list. 

Could  they  believe  them  dead? 

No. 

It  seemed  that  they  must  only  be  absent — 
not  dead,  but  absent ! 

Aud  that  some  day  they  would  come  back- 
It  might  be  at  a  very  distant  day— but  the 
day  would  come. 

Somewhat  like  this  were  Belle's  feelings  as 
regarded  her  brother  Ben. 

And  Kit  ? 

Was  he  well  ? 

They  had  not  heard  from  him  since  he 
went  away. 

Perhaps  he,  also,  was  named  in  some  list 
of  "killed  "  which  they  had  not  seen! 

"Poor  mother!"  murmured  Belle.  If  Kit 
should  also  be  killed  it  would  crush  her— she 
would  die." 

She  did  not  observe  that  she  had  stalled 
down  the  mountain  path,  nor  did  she  notice 
how  far  she  was  straying,  so  occupied  was 
her  mind. 

Nor  did  she  notice  that  from  the  bushes, 
after  she  had  passed,  there  emerged  four 
tough,  bearded  men,  who  looked  after  her, 
then  at  each  other,  winked,  and  then 
chuckled. 

Nor  did  she  notice  that  she  was  being  fol- 
lowed by  them,  they  refraining  from  pounc- 
ing on  her  till  the"  last  minute,  until  she 
should  turn  to  retrace  her  steps. 

Turn  at  last  she  did. 

Her  eyes  lighted  ou  the  four  meu. 

Then  her  lac    blanched. 

Instantly  she  divined  that  their  presence 
there  meaut  her  no  good— indeed,  meant 
harm  to  her. 

"  Now  then,"  said  one  of  the  men  gruffly, 
producing  a  revolver,  "don'tyougo  to  mak- 
iu'  any  fuss,  'cause  if  you  do " 

He  paused,  and  tapped  the  revolver  sig- 
nificantly with  one  forefinger. 

Terror  rendered  her  speechless. 

When  they  advanced  to  seize  her  she 
would  have  fallen,  but  she  was  rooted  tc  the 
spot. 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


She  fell  au  easy  prey— as  easy  as  wheu  the 
same  party  had  once  before  carried  her 
away.  Only  on  this  occasion  there  was  to 
be  no  sham  rescue  by  Buck  Toole. 

Once  they  had  Belle  in  their  power  the 
men  lost  no" time  in  getting  away  from  the 
vicinity,  and  as  night  fell  they  entered  a 
large  house  built  of  logs,  located  among  tin- 
lower  reaches  of  the  mountain,  at  a  point 
ten  miles  distant  from  her  late  home. 

Buck  Toole  was  there. 

He  leaped  to  his  feet  wheu  the  men 
brought  in  their  captive,  a  villainous  smile 
of  triumph  on  his  face. 

"  Glad  to  sec  you.  Miss  Belle,"  he  said,  ad- 
vancing and  ottering  her  his  hand. 

She  had  by  this  time  regained  part  of  her 
composure, 'and  scorning  to  touch  the  prof- 
fered hand,  she  cuttingly  remarked: 

"I  had  expected  just  about  what  I  now 
know.  It  was  by  your  orders  that  I  have 
been  carried  away." 

"Do  you  think  so?" 

"  I  am  sure  of  it." 

"Very  well;  then  there's  no  need  of  my 
saying  yes  or  no  about  it.  But  supposin' I 
was  to  say  to  you  that  it  was  not  by  my 
orders. 

These  men  are  in  your  employ." 

"  Granted." 

"Then  it  is  clear  that  you  are  at  the  bot- 
tom of  it." 

"  Not  so  fast.  Now,  supposin'  I  say  the 
meu  have  made  a  mistake— that  one  of  them 
abducted  you  because  lie  fancied  you'd  hitch 
with  him  and  go  with  him  in  double  har- 
uess.  And  supposin'  1  should  say  if  you'd 
marry  me  at  once  that  I'd  see  that  you  were 
taken  safely  to  your  home:-" 

He  paused  for  a  reply. 

It  came  in  the  shape  of  a  shudder  and  ex- 
pression of  deep  disgust. 

"  Will  you  marry  me,  and  go  back  home 
this  very  night?" 

"Marry  you?    Never!" 

"But  you  were  on  the  point  of  doing  so 
once." 

"Not  for  my  own  sake,"  she  returned, 
gazing  unflinchingly  at  him.  "Itwastosave 
my  father  and  mother,  and  the  other  people 
in  the  valley." 

Buck  gnawed  his  lip. 

"  You  won't " 

"No,  I  won't." 

"Supposin'  force  is  used  ?" 

"  You  can't  force  me." 

"  Did  you  say  can't?" 

"  I  did,"  and  she  looked  fearlessly  at  him. 

"  Are  you  in  any  hurry  to  die  ?"  he  asked, 
bending  nearer  to  her,  a  deadly  menace  in 
his  tone. 

"  Death,  before  marriage  with  you,  any 
time,"  she  firmly  said.  "  Then— the  lives  of 
others  hung  in  the  balance,  or  I  believed 
they  did.  Wow— it  is  only  myself.  I  will 
never— never— iicctc  becomeyour  wife!' 

Buck  angrily  clutched  her  by  the  arm  and 
shoved  her  into  a  small  back  room,  and  re- 
turning, quaffed  hoggishly  out  of  a  black 
bottle  standing  on  the  table. 

"  Buck,  she's  chock  full  of  the  samegrit  as 
her  brothers,"  ventured  one  of  the  men. 

"So  she  is— curse  her!"  he  growled. 
^'But  I'll  tame  her  yet,  or;  kill  her  in  doing 

Days  passed,  and  Belle  was  kept  prisoner 
in  the  little  back  room,  waited  on,  and  her 
meals  brought  to  her  by  a  woman  whoacted 
in  the  capacity  of  cook  and  housekeeper, 
and  was  the  wife  of  one  of  the  men. 

Buck  had  not  come  near  her— for  which 
she  was  very  thankful. 

Now  and  again  she  wondered  what  the 
end  was  to  be,  how  long  she  was  to  be  kept 
here,  what  Buck  Toole  meant  to  do,  and 
where  he  would  take  her  to  in  case  they  left 
this  place  ? 

For  many  hours  of  each  twenty-four  she 
could  hear  the  shout  and  jest,  and  drinking 
song,  as  the  guerrillas  guzzled  liquor  in  the 
large  room  beyond. 

Then,  one  day,  the  riotous  song  which  she 
could  not  help  hearing,  even  if  she  covered 
her  ears  with  her  hands,  suddenly  was 
hushed. 

It  was  singular. 

Thev  had  not  waited  to  finish  the  verse, 
but  bad  halted  in  the  middle. 

Why  it  was  so,  Belle  could  not  conjecture; 
but  at  once  her  heart  begun  to  beat  more 
quickly. 

Then  she  stepped  softly  to  the  door. 

She  had  aimed  ere  this  to  shut  out  all 
sound,  to  not  overhear  any  word  coming 
from  the  outer  room. 

Now  she  laid  her  head  against  the  door, 
and  strove  to  hear. 

Was  it  in  the  air? 


hid    : 


ubtle  instinct  tell  her  that  the 
army  with  which  she  sympathized  was  vic- 
torious ? 

Ascribe  the  change  to  what  you  will. 
Belle  now  strained  to  catch  the  words- 
hushed  hoarse  words— of  the  men  in  the 
outer  room. 

News  bad  conn-  from  Shiloh. 

Buck  Toole  had  heard  it  with  paling  cheek 
and  quaking  heart. 

It  was  dangerous  now  for  him  and  his 
men  to  be  in  that  vicinity.  They  must 
leave,  and  at  once,  ere  the  i  nionists  whom 
they  had  outraged  should  rise  in  their  wrath 
and'  string  them  up  to  the  nearest  trees. 

But  where  to  fly  ? 

To  go  North  was  to  plunge  deeper  into  the 
country  of  their  enemies. 

To  go  South  was  impossible,  unless  they 
wished  to  be  captured,  for  cavalry  was  out 
in  force  between  them  and  the  rebel  strong- 
holds. 

There  was  only  one  place  to  flee  to— the 
mountains. 

(Quickly  were  .he  preparations  made,  and 
when  the  sun  went  down  in  the  west  they 
were  high  up  the  mouutain  side.  Buck 
Toole  in  advance,  with  Belle  by  his  side. 

As  they  went  higher  and  higiier,  the  night 
came  on'apace,  and  when  it  became  dark, 
Buck  feared  lest  Belle  might  slip  away,  and 
he  drew  nearer,  and  put  his  arm  around 
her. 

The  insult  maddened  the  girl. 

"  Death— death— in  preference  to  spending 
another  hour  in  your  company!"  she  cried, 
and  then  she  twisted  herself  from  bis  grasp, 
and  darted  awaj'. 


self  on  the  edge  of  a  precipici — whose  \  awn- 
ing depths  were  shrouded  by  the  blackness. 

"Away— away!"  she  cried.  "Let  me 
alone — your  touch  is  worse  than  a  viper's 
sting." 

He  laughed  harshly,  reached  out  to  clutch 
her,  and  never  dreamed  she  could  do  so  wild 
a  tiling  as  she  did. 

"Death  in  preference!"  she  cried,  and 
then  she  leaped  over  the  precipice! 


CHAPTER  XV. 

OFF  FOR    THE    MOUNTAINS. 

"  Dead— dead— dead!" 

More  faithtul  heart  than  Sam  Black's  never 
beat  in  human  bi  east. 

He  had  never  said  much  to  Kit  about  car- 
ing for  him,  but  he  loved  him  as  a  father 
loves  his  only  son. 

Sam,  grizzled  and  tanned  by  the  suns  aud 
bleak  wintry  winds  aud  the  storms  of  forty 
years,  had  never  known  what  it  was  to  have 
an  object  to  love. 

He  had  not  married,  so  had  no  children  to 
call  him  father. 

( If  family  he  had  never  known. 

He  was  a  waif. 

Where  he  had  come  from,  where  he  was 
born,  more  than  that  his  fatker's  name  was 
Black,  he  did  not  know. 

Those  few  words  sum  up  the  histon  of 
the  man  who  had  watched  beside  Kit  and 
covered  his  face  lest  the  sleet  and  hail  should 
cut  it. 

He  had  met  Kit  when  the  latter  joined  bis 
company,  aud  somehow,  without  knowing 
how  it  was  done.  Kit  had  won  his  heart. 
Perhaps  it  was  because  Kit  aroused  his  ad- 
miration by  being  a  iiuih  in  every  sense  of 
the  word,  even  while  he  was  so  gentle  and 
pleasant. 

Then  Kit  had  made  him  a  confidant,  for 
nearly  everybody  feels  at  times  that  he  m  list 
talk  to  somebody  of  bis  personal  affairs. 

Kit  had  always  taken  him  along  on  the 
numerous  expeditions  on  which  lie  was  sent, 
aud  always  placed  the  most  implicit  depen- 
dence in  his  courage  and  good  sense. 

Another  reason  for  this  unselfish  love  on 
Sam's  part  may  be  found  in  the  fact  that 
they  had  together  shared  so  many  perils. 

Certain  it  is  that  tender  woman  never 
grieved  more  bitterly  as  she  stood  beside  the 
body  of  a  dead  husband,  than  Sam  did  as  he 
sat  on  that  blood-deluged  battlefield  to  pro- 
tect Kit's  body  from  desecration. 

The  tide  of  battle  had  rushed  past  him. 

He  was  dimly  conscious  that  the  reverses 
of  the  day  before  hud  been  counterweighed— 
that  the  Held  of  Shiloh  was  held  by  his  own 
army. 

But  he  took  no  interest  in  the  battle  now. 

Far  away  the  air  was  resounding  with 
death-veil '  and  \ietorious  battle-cry  and 
crash  of  musketry,  as  the  boys  in  blue  pur- 
sued the  routed  foe. 

It  fell  on  his  ear  unheeded,  as  the  lover  of 
nature,  pausing  entranced  beside  some 
flower-banked    streamlet,  hears    the    distant 


hum  and  roar  of  the  mill  that  is  set 


busy  scene  within  the  mill  walls,  with  its 
clangor  and  clamor,  and  jarring  aud  pound- 
ing and  din,  aud  its  revolving  wheels,  grind 


din  of  the  flying  fight,  as  the  boys  in  blue 
pursued  the  vanquished  and  nearly  annihi- 
lated foe. 

The  distance  increasing,  the  roar  grew 
fainter,  until  at  last  a  calmness  and  quid 
stole  over  the  scene,  broken  only  at  inter- 
vals by  the  groan  of  some  poor  fellow 
wrestling  in  agony  with  a  life-sappins: 
wound. 

And  now  many  figures  may  be  seen  mov- 
ing swiftly  hither  and  thither. 

It  is  the  ambulance  corps. 

All  day  yesterday,  and  for  hours  to-da\ 
men  have  been  killing  each  other  with  mad 
glee,  like  men  drunken  on  new  wine. 

Now  comes  the  ambulance  corps.  For 
what  ?  To  try  to  repair,  if  may  be,  one  ten- 
thousandth  part  of  the  damage  that  has 
be,u  done  to  life  aud  limb. 

It  seems  irony  of  the  most  exquisite  kind 
to  see  that  corps  now  on  the  field. 

But— still— many  a  poor  fellow  has  reason 
to  bless  their  presence. 

"  What  have  we  here?" 

Sam  looked  up. 

His  mournful  eyes  met  those  of  the  ques- 
tioner. 

The  surgeon  looked  down  at  him,  aud 
somehow  he  felt  uncomfortable.  He  had 
seen  so  many  pitiful  sights  that  he  had 
grown  somewhat  callous  to  them— was  not 
so  tender  of  heart  as  he  used  to  be;  but  he 
felt  uncomfortable  then. 

Why? 

Simply  because  he  had  not  expected  to 
find  teais  in  the  eyes  of  one  so  coarse  of 
feature,  of  so  rough  a  nature  as  Sam  Black. 
and  more  gently  he  repeated  : 

"  You  have  here  the  body  of  the  bravest 
man  on  the  field  of  Shiloh  '."' 

So  Sam  solemnly  aud  huskily  said,  and 
then  he  drew  away  the  coat  as  gently  as  a 
mother  removes  the  screening  cover  overher 
child's  face. 

"There  he  is— that's  him— look  at  him! 
The  bravest  man  on  Shiloh's  bloody  Held!" 

Sam's  voice  trembled  violently. 

"Shiloh's  bloody  -  blood  v  field!"  he  said 
to   himself,    and    then    his    head    dropped 


-;;, 


.  he  surgeon  bent  a  pitying  look  on  the 
heart-stricken  man,  and  then  he  knelt  be- 
side Kit. 

He  was  deft. 

I'.xpei  iciice  bad  taught  him  what  to  do. 

That  same  experience  enabled  him  quick- 
ly to  know  whether  a  man  be  living  or 
dead. 

He  seemed  scarcely  to  have  knelt  beside 
Kit  more  than  a  second,  when  he  suddenly 
snatched  away  the  coat  which  had  covered 
the  young  man's  face. 

Sam  took  it  for  rudeness,  and  he  raised  bis 
head  quickly,  a  glare  in  bis  eyes. 

"Lift  this  coat  off,"  said  the  surgeon 
"It  has  stopped  hailing  now,  aud  this  rain 
dashing  into  bis  face  will  do  him  good." 

"Hey?" 

Stupidly,  Sain  thus  exclaimed,  aud  theu 
slowly  a  strange  light  stole  across  his  face. 

He  scanned  the  surgeon's  face. 

"  Do  him  good  ?"  he  echoed. 

"Yes." 

"Then  he  ain't  dead?" 

"No." 

"  Then— hooray ! ' ' 

For  a  little  space  he  was  an  absolutely  in- 
sane man. 

While  the  surgeon  was  making  some  fur- 
ther examination,  Sam  kicked  up  bis  heeb 
ike  a  frisky 
leased  from  the  coi 
the  stable. 

But  now  he  paused  suddenly. 

His  face  became  quickly  grave. 

A  new  reflection  had  come  to  him. 

"You  said  he  was  alive,  doctor?"  anft 
Sam's  tone  was  very  pathetic,  as  he  uttered 
flics.-  words,  and  paused  at  t  lie  surgeon's  side. 
"But  will  beget  well?" 

The  surgeon,  having  finished  his  t 
tiou,  arose  to    his   perpendicuVr, 

"  He  will,  and  speedily  at  that.    He  has 
received  three  wounds,  has  lost  some  blood, 
but  is  otherwise  as  good  i 
had  never  touched  him." 

The  surgeon1 


and    an- 


1   1USL     BUUlf    OlOOVl, 

though  a  bullet 


Kit  soon  after  opened   b 
eutly  requested  Sam  '     ' 
position. 


>  a  sitting 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


After  a  swallow  or  two  of  braudv,  lie  was 
even  able  to  get  upon  bin  feet.  Iu  fact,  be 
was  apparently  not  as  weak  as  when  Sam 
had  been   assisting  him  from  the  field,  be- 


fore being  struck  in  the  head  by  that  last 
bullet,  which  had  been  a  glancing  shot,  had 
slashed  his  scalp  anil  deprived    him   of  con 


seiousness,  but   done   him    no   greater   in- 
Together    they    left   the   bloody   battle- 
field. 

The  next  day  Kit  applied  for  leave  of  ab- 
sence. 

This  battle  of  Shiloh  had  made  it  safe  for 
him  to  return  home,  and  he  wished  to  go 
there  to  recuperate. 

Permission  was  readilj  granted  him  for 
himself,  and  in  addition,  for  Sam  to  go  with 
him. 

A  body  of  cavalry  were  to  start  the  next 
morning  for  a  tour  across  Tennessee,  and 
through  that  section  of  the  country,  and 
the  state  nf  Peling  I  icing  as  yet  an  uncertain 
thing  Kit  was  advised   to  go  in  their  eom- 


through  a  hard  ride,"  Kit  said. 

"But  the  ride  will  not  be  a  bard  one.  They 
are  ordered  to  go  slow,  take  things  leisurely, 
and  if  they  get  a  chance  root  out  these  petty- 
bauds  of  guerrillas  that  have  done  so  much 
damage." 

So  Kit  and  Sam  took  horses  that  were  pro- 
vided for  them,  and  started  off  with  the 
troop  of  cavalry. 

No  incident  of  any  moment  occurred  until 
they  were  within  live  miles  of  Kit's  destina- 
tion. 

Night  had  closed  iu  a  full  hour  before, 
and  the  cavalry  commander  intended  soon 
to  call  a  bait. 

Then  some  one  chanced  to  observe  a   red- 

"  It  is  the  reflection  of  a  fire,"  was  the  con- 
clusion to  which  everybody  leaped. 

It  was  straight  ahead  of  them,  so  they 
urged  their  tiled  horses  to  a  swifter  gait,  not 
knowing  but  that  they  might  be  of  some 
service. 

At  last  they  were  near  enough  to  see  the 
flames  themselves. 

"It  is  at,  or  near  the  residence  of  one  of 
the  wealthiest  men  in  this  section,"  Kit  told 
the  commanding  officer.  "And  he  was  a 
stanch  Union  man." 

"Possibly  the  guerrillas  have  not  fled 
yet." 

Kit  nodded,  and  answered  : 

"Yes." 

Only  a  minute  later,  and  they  could  hear 
the  fa'int  echoes  of  a  distant  yell. 

Then  came  to  their  ears  the  faint  report  of 
firearms. 

"There  is  some  deviltry  afoot !"  exclaimed 
Kit. 

"  You  are  right,"  was  the  reply,  and  then 
the  officer  led  the  way  at  a  more  rapid  pace. 

Up  a  gentle  acelivifv,  and  pausing  at  the 
top,  a  swale  lay  before  them. 

Near  its  center  was  the  source  of  the 
flames. 

"  It  is  the  house  of  the  man  I  spoke  of," 
said  Kit,  quickly. 

The  building  was  all  in  flames  now,  and 
beyond  reach  of  its  heat,  on  the  sward,  thirty 
odd  men  were  dancing  in  mad   glee — like  so 


This  was  the  order,  sharply  given,  and  on 
through  the  darkness  swept  the  avenging 
force ! 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

A   TERRIBLE   SITUATION. 

Shakespeare  says: 

"There  is  a  Oiviiitt v  thin  sliai-es  our  ends, 
Rough  hew  them  113  we  will." 

Although  the  doctrine  taught  in  these 
words  is  rejected  by  all  of  our  smartest 
thinkers  and  reasouers  of  the  present  day. 
save  here  and  there  a  olerg\  man.  it  certainly 
does  seem  at  times  as  if  there  must  be  a 
greater  or  less  degree  of  truth  in  the  ideaex- 
pressed  by  the  divine  William,  as  some  of 
his  most  ardent  admirers  speak  of  him. 

The  reader  may  be  wondering  what  the 
foregoing  has  to  do  with  this  story. 

To  be  perfectly  frank,  it  lias  nothing  to  do 
with  the  story  at  all.  and  is  only  mentioned 
to  give  point,  as  it  were,  to  what  happened 
to  Belle  Langdon. 

"Death  in  preference  l"shebad  exclaimed, 
and  then,  to  escape  the  hateful  persecutions 
of  Buck  Toole  had  leaped  over  the  cliff— to 
be  dashed  to  pieces  ou  the  rocks  below ! 

Buck  Toole  thought  so. 

Hardened  wretch  as  be  was.  he  shuddered 
convulsively  as  he  saw  Belle's  form  suspend- 


ed in  air  for  a   half   moment,  and    then   go 
down— down— down ! 

He  even  reeled  where  he  stood,  and  but  for 
the  fact  that  he  swiftly  retreated,  might 
have  tottered  over  the  cliff  and  been  himself 
dashed  to  pieces. 

The  sweat  stood  out  upon  his  forehead  in 
great  beads. 

He  had  killed  his  man,  as  the  saying  goes, 
and  was  proud  of  it. 

In  fact,  more  than  one  human  being  had 
been  hurried  from  the  world  by  his  hand, 
and  he  had  never  felt  anything  like  remoise. 
But,  as  he  saw  that  young  girl  shoot  down 
into  the  darkness  he  uttered  a  groan,  and 
treml  Jed  like  an  aspen. 

It  did  not  seem  right  that  she  should  die. 

Selfish  and  brutal  and  heartless  as  be  was, 
could  he  have  recalled  Belle  now  he  would 
have  foregone  his  own  desires  to  see  her  safe 
in  her  home. 

But  that  could  not  be. 

She  was  gone. 

In  a  minute  or  two,  however,  the  weak- 
ness—as he  would  have  called  it— passed,  and 
left  him  as  hard  and  cold  and  callous  as 
ever. 

He  even  laughed. 

He  went  to  the  edge  and  peered  down  into 
the  gorge. 

He  could  see  nothing. 

Darkness,  dense,  impenetrable  darkness, 
there  held  undisputed  sway. 

Then  hi'  led  his  men  away,  believing  that 
Belle  Langdon  lay  at  the  bottom  of  the 
gorge  a  shapeless  mass  of  flesh  and  bones. 

But  did  she? 

Now  note  the  application  of  Shakespeare's 
words. 

Perhaps  ten  feet  below  the  top  of  the  cliff 
some  convulsion  of  nature  had  caused  the 
formation  of  what  might  be  called  a  pocket; 
that  occurring  centuries  ago. 

As  season  succeeded  season,  and  the  winds 
blew,  there  were  eonveved  small  particles  o 
dust,  perhaps  a  few  leaves,  and  the  disinteg- 
ration of  tin-  nick  possibly  added  a  little  to- 
ward tilling  this  pocket. 

In  the  course  of  many  years  (his  pocket 
became  filled  with  earth  by  a  process  of 
slow  accumulation. 

Then  at  last  a  tiny  green  shoot  is  seen  to 
appear  above  the  "surface,  which,  as  other 
years  go  by,  continues  to  grow  and  expand 
until,  as  the  result,  we  have  a  tree  that  is 
nourished  and  supported  by  the  soil  in  the 
pocket. 

Now,  then,  Belle  Langdon  leaped  from  the 
cliff  at  a  point  directly  above  this,  and— she 
alighted  in  the  tree. 

Must  assuredly  she  could  have  had  no  idea 
that  the  tree  was  there,  could  have  had  no 
conception  of  the  fact  that  anything  could 
have  saved  her  had  she  leaped  into  the  gorge 
at  any  other  point. 

She  had  leaped  as  she  supposed  to  death, 
but  after  crashing  through  the  top  of  the 
tree  her  clothing  fastened  on  some  projecting 
branches,  and  there  she  hung. 

Was  it  not  fate  ? 

As  we  have  said  Belle  was  a  brave  girl  at 
heart,  and  was  not  a;  fool  by  any  means,  be- 
ing a  very  quick  thinker. 

It  would  never  do,  it  recurred  to  her,  to 
let  Buck  know  what  had  happened  ;  and  so 
catching  her  breath,  she  remained  as  still  as 
a  mouse  during  the  succeeding  few  minutes. 

Then  she  heard  Buck  advance  to  the  edge 
of  the  cliff  anil  look  down. 

She  held  her  breath  in  suspense. 

Much  rather  would  she  die  than  again  fall 
into  his  power. 

A  minute,  and  then  she  heard  the  villain 
withdraw,  and  she  drew  a  deep  breath  of  re- 
lief. 

The  next  minute  her  heart  was  caused  to 
leap  into  her  throat. 

There  was  a  long-drawn,  ripping  sound. 

Her  clothing  was  tearing. 

Would  Buck  bear  the  noise? 

He  seemed  not  to  ;  but,  oh !  how  painfully 
anxious  were  the  next  few  minutes. 

The  party  had  paused  to  discuss  some 
point.  Belle  could  hear  them  talking  earn- 
estly, although  she  could  not  make  out  a 
word  that  was  said. 

Meanwhile,  every  few  seconds  there  was  a 
little  r-r-r-rip. 

At  each  one  she  sank  a  little  lower,  while 
for  the  life  of  her  she  dared  not  reach  out 
her  hand  to  clutch  a  limb,  and  so  help  release 
the  strain  on  her  clothing. 

For  nearly  ten  minutes  Belle  was  kept  in 
suspense,  aiid  then,  to  her  inexpressible  joy, 
she  heard  them  take  their  departure. 

When  they  were  almost  beyond  sound  she 
ventured  to  reach  out  to  lay  hold  of  a  limb. 

Strange  to  say,  her  hand  did  not  come  into 
contact  with  one. 

Again  she  reached  out. 


She  then  still   further  extended  her  baud. 

Then  she  tried  the  opposite  side,  but  met 
with  no  bettor  success. 

With  the  iron  of  intense  agony  in  her  heart 
she  reached  in  every  direction ;  but  only 
empty  space  met  her"  grasp,  and  still,  every 
little  while,  the  stuff  ol  tier  dress  went  r-r-r- 


lianging  in  an  almost,  horizontal  position, 
her  face  turned  downward  toward  the  bot- 
tom of  the  gorge.  , 

Just  out  of  reach  on  either  side  were  other1 
branches  of  the  tree,  could  she  have  but 
reached  which  she  would  have  been  com- 
paratively safe. 

In  the  density  of  the  darkness  she  could 
not  see  these  branches,  and  only  knew  that 
nought  but  empty  air  rewarded  her  clutches 
on  every  side. 

Of  course  there  was  a  limb  behind  her 
back,  iu  other  words,  above  her.  It  was  this 
one  on  which  the  skirts  of  her  dress  had 
caught. 

This  limb  she  could  lay  hold  of,  however, 
only  by  turning  herself  completely  over, 
which  was  an  impossibility. 

Several  times  she  threw  her  right  baud  be- 
hind her,  and  then  reached  upward  as  far  as 
she  could. 

This  movement,  however,  seemed  to  put  a 
particular  strain  on  the  dress  goods,  which, 
on  each  occasion,  ripned  most  ominiously. 

So,  with  a  groan  Belle  desisted  from  all  at- 
tempts to  reach  the  limb  above  her. 

She  had  not  felt  any  great  horror  at  the 
thought  of  death  by  leaping  from  the  cliff, 
but  this  hanging  here,  not  knowing  at  what 
moment  the  end  might  come,  was  an  en- 
tirely different  thing. 

Poor  girl ! 

It  was  indeed  a  most  horrible  position  in 
which  to  bo  placed. 

She  became  bathed  from  head  to  foot  in  a 
cold  perspiration,  and  her  poor  heart  beat 
wildly  within  her  bosom. 

What  could  she  do  ?" 

Only  hang  there  until  the  dress  gave  away 
absolutely,  or  help  came. 

But  would  help  come?  Was  it  at  all  prob- 
able that  anybody  would  come  along  this 
lonely  mountain  path  in. time  to  rescue  her?  \ 

"Father  in  Heaven  have  mercy  ou  me!" 
was  her  mental  prayer. 

Then  she  assumed  the  most  comfortable 
position  that  she  could,  and  patiently  waited 
—waited,  for  what?    Only  God  knew  ! 

Hours— years  to  her— passed. 

Still  she'liung  there. 

The  dress  had  ceased  to  tear  ;  and  in  the 
very  depth  of  the  despair  engendered  by  her 
awful  situation,  she  had  studied  and  pon- 
dered until  the  solution  was  found. 

The  dress  had  ripped  until  the  hem  was 
reached  and  there  meeting  a  double  thick- 
ness held  fast. 

Suspension  by  the  hem  would  have  per- 
mitted her  to  hang  nearly  head  downward 
had  not  the  skirt  been  swept  upward  when 
passing  through  the  smaller  branches  at  the 
top  of  the  tree. 

As  her  heavy  eyes  swept  the  blackness  be- 
fore her  for  the  thousandth  time  they  en- 
countered an  object  which  had  before  es- 
caped them. 

This  was  a  tiny  spark  of  light,  looking  in 
the  distance  through  the  darkness,  like  a 
twinkling  star. 

It  was  somebody's  camp-fire,  she  instantly 
com  bided  and  then  she  wondered  who  was 
beside  it. 

Could  it  be  Buck  Toole,  some  of  his  men, 
or  others  of  the  same  stripe  ? 

She  could  not  tell,  although  it  was  even 
probable  that  it  was  the  case  that  they  were 
evil  men. 

Should  she  call  for  help  ? 

She  pondered  this  question  for  quite  a  few 
minutes,  and  then,  reflecting  that  daylight, 
was  net  far  off  she  did  not  do  so. 


ting  herself. 

Day  broke  at  last. 

Its  light  revealed  what  we  have  already 
described  to  the  reader— branches  on  either 
hand,  just  out.  of  reach,  another  above  her, 
also  out  of  her  reach. 

Below  her— far  below  her— was  the  rocky 
bottom  of  the  gorge,  to  fall  to  which  meant 
a  crushing  out  of  all  semblance  to  humanity. 

What,  now  that  daylight  had  come,  could 
she  do  ? 

"I  must  devise  some  means,''  she  desper- 
ately exclaimed.  "Ah!  I  see  a  way  !"  in  a 
joyous  tone. 

Then,  somehow,  her  eyes  were  drawn  to 
the  very  spot  where  two  men  stod. 

Thev  were   considerably  below  her  level. 


.JLE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


Igi'd 


standing  at  a  spot  where  i 

up  out  thf  gorge  ran  aero* 

They  had  just  at  that 
from  some  bushes,  and  fr< 
which  they  oajne  Belle  believed  that  it  was 
their  camp-fire  which  she  had  seen  gleaming 
through  tin- darkness. 

They  turned  and  saw  her. 

She*  oould  see  them  start,  and  then  one 
pointed  his  linger  in  her  direction. 

Clearly  she  saw  that  they  became  yery 
excited," and  she  at  once  leaped  to  the  con- 
clusion that  as  a  consequence  they  were  en- 
mies  to  her. 

Now  she  saw  them  swiftly  climb  the  rough 
p.nh,  eager  to  reach  her. 

■•  I  will  escape  them,"  Belle  told  herself, 
In  ively. 

one  looked  at  the  limb  at  the   right   and 
tfn.-ii  at  the  one  to  the  left. 
'    she  set  her  teeth  and  prepared   to   accom- 
plish a  most  desperate   feat,    but  one  which, 
i;  her  dress   held,    promised  to  lie  successful. 

She  threw  all  her  weight  to  one  side  in  a 
second,  and  then  threw  it  in  the  otherdirec- 

tloll. 

Again  and  again  she  repeated  this,  grad- 
ually accelerating  her  movements,  and 
gaining  a  pendulum-like  motion. 

It  was  hard  work  to  start  from  a  position 
of  perfect  inertia,  but  she  accomplished  it. 

Now  each  swing  back  and  forth  gave  her 
new  momentum,  and  describing  a  gradually 
enlarging  arc  she  came  nearer  and  nearer 
each  time  to  the  limb  she  wished  to  reach. 

Back  and  forth— back  and  forth— back 
an. I  forth— and  as  she  swung  thus,  the  two 
men,  hidden  for  some  minutes,  emerged  into 
sight. 

'•  For  God's  sakestay  motionless!" shouted 
one,  and  Belle  knew  then  that  they  were 
friends,  not  foes. 

But  now  she  dared  not  stop ! 

The  dress  was  ripping  again,  would  tear 
through  before  she  ceased  swinging  to  and 

No;  she  must  now  keep  on  and  try  to  grasp 
the  limb  ere  it  gave  way  entirely. 

Back  and  forth— back  and  forth— back 
and  forth ! 

"Once!"  breathed  Belle,  "twice!  three 
times!" 

She  flung  out  her  hands,  the  dress  parted  ; 
but  she  had  grasped  the  limb. 

"  Belle — you— for  heaven's    sake,  how 

Bui  there's  no  time  for  questions,  '.'an  you 
hang  on  there  one  minute?" 

'•Yes.     Uh!  Ben,  I'm  so  glad!" 

Quickly  Ben  Langdon  found  a  path  hy 
whieh  he  could  descend  to  the  based  the 
tree,  up  which  he  swiftly  went,  and  by  his 
encouraging  and  sensible  advice  and  an  ex- 
ertion of  his  strength,  he    succeeded  ill  get- 

( luce  here.  Belle  was  enough  of  a  country 
girl  to  descend  without  trouble,  alter  which 
Ben  assisted  her  up  to  the  path. 

Belle  glanced  quickly  around. 

"You  had  somebody  with  you  ?"  she  sug- 
gestively said. 

"  Yes."  and  he  looked  archly  at  her. 
"What  would  you  say  to  seeing  Harry 
Briggs— or  rather,  what  there  is  left  of 
him  ?" 

"  Yes,  come  out  of  hiding,  Harry,  wherever 
you  are." 

From  behind  a  rock,  where  he  had  shrunk 
as  soon  as  he  saw  Belle  was  in  safety,  came 
Harry  Briggs,  looking  very  thm  and  pale, 
and  with  his  left  arm  in  a  sling,  but  Harry 
Briggs  all  the  same. 

"Oh!  Harry!"  she  joyfully  cried,  and 
then  her  eves  "rested  with  a  strange  look  of 
pity  and  inquiry  on  the  bandaged  member. 

"I  did  not  want  to  come,  Belle,"  he  said. 
"  I  have  lost  a  hand,  and  I  can't  expect  you 
to  take  a  maimed  man  for  a  husband.  I 
didn't  want  to  come,   but  Ben  forced    me 

"  You  should  be  ashamed  of  yourself, 
Harry  Briggs,  to  think  that  I  could  love 
you  less  because  you  had  lost  a  hand,"  she 
said,  very  softly,  reproach  and  tenderness 
mingling  in  her  tone. 

Then  she  stepped  gently  to  his  side,  and 
placed  the  one  hand  he  had  left  about  her 
"Waist 

As  he  drew  her  to  him,  he  said,  in  a  husky 
voice : 

"  Ben  was  right." 

>iy 

to?"  laughed  Ben 
her,  even  if  I  had  to  roll  over  and  over  all 
the  way  on  account  of  having  no  legs  to 
walk  on." 

He  spoke  jestingly,  but  it  was  to  cover  the 
fullness  of  his  heart. 

Belle  knew  it,  and  glanced  affectionately 
at  him. 

"  But  come,"  said  Ben,  "I'm  anxious  to  get 


home.  We  tried  hard  to  make  it  last  night; 
but  since  Shiloh  this  is  Union  ground,  and 
such  as  I  have  to  move  very  carefully. 
Finding  we  couldn't  make  it  we  camped 
down  yonder— and  mighty  fortunate  we  did, 
asit  turns  out.  But  come,  now,  stop  that 
hugging,  can't  you?  Let'sbeoff.  As  we  go, 
tell  me  how  you  came  in  that  position." 

Ben's  blood  fairly  boiled  when  she  ex- 
plained how  she  had  been  carried  oil'  by 
four  men  acting  under  the  orders  of  Buck 
Toole,  and  kept  a  close  prisoner,  and  how  to 
escape  him  she  had  jumped  over  the  cliff. 

"The  villain!  I'll  settle  with  him  for 
this!" 

That  was  all  he  said,  but  there  were  un- 
spoken volumes  behind  each  word. 

"I  knew  you  were  not  killed  !"  Belle  sud- 
denly exclaimed. 

"  You  got  hold  of  a  paper  then  publishing 
my  name  in  the  list  of  killed,"  he  said. 

"I  was  in  hopes  you  would  not  see  it.  I 
would  have  spared  mother  such  needless 
pain  if  I  could.     Did  she  grieve  much  ?" 

"  Ah!  Ben,  can  you  ask  such  a  question?" 

"No — no— there  is  no  need.  Poor,  fond 
mother!  How  she  does  love  us  all.  And 
father?" 

"  He  bore  it  as  he  does  all  other  troubles — 
meekly,  as  becomesoneof  God's  servants." 

"I  am  eager  to  see  them  again.  Oh!  that 
we  were  there." 

It  was  about  ten  o'clock  when  Belle  sud- 
denly appeared  in  the  little  valley.  She  was 
instantly  seen,  and  then  up  went  a  wild  and 
joyous  shout. 

"Isit^is   it "    gasped    Mrs.    Langdon, 

when  she  heard  it,  and  then  unable  to  say 
more,  she  sank  back  in  her  seat. 

"The  lost  is  found— our  child  has  return- 
ed," said  Mr.  Langdon,  having  stepped  to 
the  door  and  seen  Belle  coming  with  hasty 
step. 

When  the  greeting  was  over,  she  paved 
the  way  toward  announcing  Ben's  return, 
and  just  as  she  had  told  them  that  he  was 
alive  and  well  he  crossed  the  threshold. 

His  father  grasped  his  hand,  and  then  re- 
leased him,  that  he  might  go  swiftly  to  his 
mother,  and  press  kisses  on  forehead,  and 
cheek,  and  lip. 

So  tender— so  loving— and  yet  so  daring 
and  dashing  a  soldier! 

There  are  some  who  cannot  believe  that  a 
man  can  be  both. 

Yet  the  fact  remains  that  it  is  true  ;  as 
witness  these  two  gallant  sons  of  Mr.  Lang- 
don—one  fighting  for  the  Union,  the  other 
for  the  Confederacy. 

Harry  was  not  forgotten,  and  was  com- 
pelled to  join  the  happy  family  circle. 

"  If  Kit  were  only  here,"  wishfully  said 
Belle. 

Even  as  she  spoke,  a  shadow  darkened  the 
doorway. 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

BUCK    TOOLE   GETS  HIS  DESERTS. 

The  wild  and  savage  men  who  had  formed 
themselves  into  a  body  under  the  leadership 
of  Buck  Toole  were  divided  on  the  question 
of  what  was  the  best  course  for  them  to 
pursue. 

A  long  and  angry  discussion  had  occurred 
ere  they  left  the  house  they  had  occupied  as 
headquarters. 

Influenced  by  having  Belle  Langdon  in  his 
hands,  Buck  advocated  flight  into  the  mount- 
ains, and,  as  the  reader  knows  from  circum- 
stances described,  had  his  way. 

When  Belle  Langdon  leaped  from  the  cliff, 
to  destruction,  he  believed,  he  no  longer  de- 
sired to  go  into  hiding,  and  he  again  opened 
the  question  as  to  their  future  movements. 

Of  course,  those  who  had  been  for  retreat- 
ing southward  as  rapidly  as  possible,  spoke 
up  at  once,  and  a  Ion-  and  heated  discussion 
followed. 

This  time  Buck  threw  his  weight  on  the 
reverse  side  of  the  scale,  and  flight  south- 
ward was  determined  upon. 

"The  enemy  can't  have  any  great  amount 
of  cavalry  out.     said  Buck.     "And i! 

"  And  what?"  asked  one  near  him 

"  Who  wants  to  strike  a  last  blow!" 

So  Buck  asked,  in  a  tone  loud  enough  for 
all  to  hear. 

"I  do." 

"And  I." 

"  Andl." 

The  reply  was  unanimous,  but  with  it 
some  coupled  the  proviso : 

"  That  is,  if  it  ain't  too  risky." 

"  But  s'posen  it  pays?"  suggested  Buck. 

"S'posen  it  does?" 

"Ain't  you  willin'  to  take  a  little  risk  for 
the  vally  of  a  thousand  apiece?" 

"  Certainly.  If  you  can  show  us  that  much 
apiece." 


"Well,  ain't  Squire  Thorn  worth  enough 
to  pan  out  that  much?" 

"I  reckon,"  said  one. 

"So  do  I,"  from  another. 

"But's  it  risky  business,"  said  a  third. 

"Good  enough,"  said  Buck,  looking 
straight  at  the  last  speaker.  "You  needn't 
go— we'll  count  you  out.  Any  one  else  want 
to  be  out?" 

As  the  reader  has  seen,  Buck  Toole  was  at 
heart  a  coward. 

Not  a  few  of  his  men  were  likewise. 

Not  a  few  more  were  braver  men  than 
Buck,  and    estimated    him  at  his  true  value. 

These  last  felt  that  if  Buck  had  pluck 
enough  to  make  the  venture,  it  could  not  be 
so  very  risky,  and  the  ardor  which  they  at 
once  displayed,  inspirited  those  of  weaker 
hearts. 

Consequently  nobody  responded,  when 
Buck  asked  it  anybody  else  wanted  to  be 
counted  out. 


The  man  whom  Buck  had  applied  the  pr 
oftl 
lot  to  be  off. 


to,  at  once  became  the  most  eager  of  the 


Repossessing  themselves  of  their  mounts 
they  were  soon  dashing  across  country  in 
the  direction  of  the  residence  of  the  unsus- 
pecting man,  the  stanch  adherent  of  the 
Cniou  during  all  those  terriblemonths  when 
to  admit  Union  sympathy,  was  almostequiv- 
alent  to  having  a  bullet  put  through  one's 
head  who  was  so  foolish  as  to  venture  out 
after  dark. 

Halting  only  a  little  way  from  the  house 
two  of  those  fiends  in  human  form  stealthily 
approached  to  reconnoiter. 

The   family   was  gathered  on    the    broad 


The  rebels  had 
South. 

All  danger  from  them  was  now  believed  to 
be  a  thing  of  the  past,  and  a  great  relief  had 
conic  into  the  hearts  of  all  that  family. 

Suddenly  some  one's  eyes,  more  keen  than 
those  of  the  others,  discovered  a  dark 
shadow  creeping  over  the  lawn. 

At  almost  the"  same  moment  one  of  the 
servants  came  hurriedly  but  silently  from 
the  house. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  was  hastily  in- 
quired. 

"  l'se  done  seen  a  man  acrawlin'  and 
acrawlin'  up  by  de  kitchen  winders,"  was 
the  reply  ol  the  faithful  wench. 

"Well?"  demanded  the  squire,  knowing 
from  the  catching  of  her  breath  that  she 
had  something  more  to  say. 

"And  I  done  knowed  de  man.' 

"Who  is  he?" 

"  LanDoycer." 

"  And  what  of  him  ?" 

"  He  am  one  of  Buck  Toole's  gang  ob  bad 
men." 

The  squire  was  on  his  feet  in  an  instant. 

The  circumstance  thus  reported,  coupled 
with  that  of  the  figure  on  the  lawn,  was  suf- 
ficient for  him  to  guess  what  was  up. 

"All  of  you  go  into  the  house,"  he  said. 
"But  go  quickly  one  by  one — and  each  take 
a  station  beside'a  door  or  window  that  needs 
securing.  When  I  give  the  word,  make 
everything  fast.  In  this  way  we  can  pre- 
vent their  taking  us  by  a  rush." 

They  had  been  attacked  before. 

Familiarity  with  danger  had  developed 
courage  in  tiiem  all,  and  to  the  letter  were 
the  squire's  orders  obeyed. 

There  may  have  been  some  inward  trem- 
bling, but  all  outward  manifestations  of  fear 
wen-  repressed. 

Presently  a  shout  rang  through  the  house. 

It  was  uttered  by  the  squire. 

Slam.!    Bang ! 

Every  door  and  window  was  shut  in  a 
twinkling. 

Then  came  the  grating  of  bolts  and  the 
dropping  of  bars. 

A  howl  of  rage  now  went  up  from  the  lips 
of  Buck  and  bis  rascally  gang. 

They  had  expected  "to  make  a  rush  and 
overpower  the  inmates  of  the  house  in  a 
twinkling.  Overcautiousness  or  overcow- 
ardicehad  been  Buck's  reason  for  the  delay 
while  a  reconnoisance  was  made. 

He  had  just  become  satisfied  that  there 
were  no  persons  around  the  place  save  the 
squire's  own  family,  and  had  been  just  on 
the  point  of  making  the  assault  when  win- 
dows and  doors  were  so  suddenly  closed 
against  him. 

This  was  bad. 

At  least  it  was  bad  in  Buck's  eyes;  for  now 
a  mere  handful   could  give  a  plucky  resist- 

"qoireThorne  had  been   attacked 


THE  WAR  LIBK^K\' . 


21 


and  had  put  his  house  in  a  state  so  that  it 
could  be  defended  easily. 

"Now  follow  me!"  cried  Buck.  "Maybe 
they've  left  some  hole  unguarded  through 
which  we  can  get  afore  its  fastened  up." 

Forward  they  went,  and  like  famished 
wolves,  rushed  around  the  building  trying 
doors  and  wiudows  with  eagerness  in  their 
eyes  and  fury  in  their  faces. 

Every  door  was  barred. 

Every  window  was  fastened. 


,as  they  gathered  in  a  sullen  group 
around  their  leader. 

"  We  must  get  in,"  said  Buck. 

"But  how  are  we  to  do  it?  He's  got  loop- 
holes cut,  I've  heard,  and  knows  how  to 
handle  a  gun." 

"Hecan't  shoot  us  all,"  said  Buck.  "For 
a  thousand  apiece  we  all  agreed  to  take  some 
risk." 

"There's  one  thing,  Buck!"  the  other 
earnestly  said. 

"What  is  that?" 

"  We  dou't  want  to  stay  around  this  place 
any  longer  than  we  can  help.  A  squad  of 
mounted  hlueeoats  are  liable  to   come  along 

Buck  knew  that  the  man  was  right,  and 
felt  a  little  uneasy. 

Still  he  could  not  give  up  the  anticipated 
plunder. 

"Let's  see  if  I  can't  frighten  the  squire," 
he  said.  "That's  the  easiest  and  quickest 
way,  if  it  can  lie  done." 

"If  it  can  be."  returned  one  of  the  men, as 
Buck  advanced  toward  the  house. 

"Halt!" 

This  command  was  given  by  somebody 
stationed  behind  one  of  the  wiudows,  which 
were  all  protected  bv  board  shutters. 

At  once  Buck  halted. 

"  Is  that  you,  squire,"  he  asked. 

"  I  suppose  you  know  what  we  want?" 
"What?" 

"  A  slice  of  your  fortune." 
"Come  and  take  it,  then!" 
There   was  a  genuineness    in   the  squire's 
tone  that  was  not  to  be  mistaken. 
Buck  bit  his  lips. 
Presently  he  said : 


tons " 

"I'll  do  nothing  of   the  kind."  interrupted 

Squire  Thorn. 

"  Are\  ou  read)  to  take  the  consequences?" 
"I'm  ready  to  tight    until    the   last   gasp," 

was  the  determined  reply, 
['topeu,  then?" 


■No.' 


not  see  it,   but 
it hly  pale. 
!"  he  presently 
one.     "  Begone, 


i  the  situa- 


Theie  were  a  few  who  desired  to  take  no 
risk,  but  bv  far  the  larger  majority  were  for 
battering  down  the  door  and  forcing  an  en- 
trance. 

Their  decision  was  made  known  to  Squire 
Thorn  when  he  saw  them  coming  ou  a  run 
across  the  lawn,  a  huge  log  poised  and  ready 
to  be  hurled  against  the  door. 

Crack— crack ! 

Two  shots  rang  out.  when  they  were  within 
close  range. 

One  man  fell  dead  and  another  was  seri- 
ously wounded. 

The  log  was  dropped,  and  the  men  swiftly 
retreated,  like  the  cravens  they  were,  leav- 
ing their  wounded  comrade  to  take  care  of 
himself  as  best  he  could. 

But  the  villainous  crew  were  not  ready  yet 
to  give  up  the  prospect  of  plunder. 

""Strategy  must  be  tried,"  said  Buck, 
hoarsely.  ""We  must  try  to  force  a  cellar 
window.  Who  will  volunteer  to  steal  up 
to  the  house  for  that  purpose?" 

At  last  two  men  volunteered,  and  went 
stealthily  away  in  the  darkness. 

In  safety  they  gained  the  shelter  of  the 
house. 

But  every  window  they  could  reach  was 
so  secure  that  it  could  not  be  toned  without 
making  so  much  noise  as  to  draw  the  in- 
mates to  the  spot. 

Incensed  bv  the  death  of  one  of  their 
number,  afraid  to  make  an  open  attack  for 
fear  of  being  shot,  and    unable   to   gain  ad- 


mittance in  any  other  way,  they  determined 
on  revenge ! 

It  was  a  base  and  cowardly  thing  to  do. 

But  no  spark  of  houoranimated  the  breast 
of  either;  it  was  not  a  question  of  whether 
they  icuuhl  but  whether  they  could. 

That  they  could  they  were  soon  satis- 
fied. 

Light  inflammable  materials  were  close  at 
hand,  and  soon  a  goodly  pile  had  been  placed 
against  the  building. 

When  all  was  ready  a  Dutch  was  applied. 
and  when  they  saw  that  the  wood  had 
ignited  they  began  a  swift  retreat. 

Crack ! 

Squire  Thorn  had  been  hastily  called  by 
his  daughter,  who  had  caught  sight  of  the 
glow. 

He  had  reached  that  side  of  the  house  in 
time  to  see  the  dar"  figures  flying  across  the 
lawn. 

In  an  instant  his  rifle  had  leaped  to  the 
porthole  in  a  wooden  shutter;  and,  aiming 
quickly,  he  pulled  the  trigger. 

One  of  the  dastards  expiated  his  hellish 
work  with  his  life. 

He  flung  up  his  arms,  and  fell  forward 
heavily  ou  his  face. 

He  was  dead  before  he  struck  the  ground. 

A  maddened  howl  burst  from  the  lips  ot 
the  guerrillas,  and  there  was  a  forward  im- 
pulse as  if  they  would  have  rushed  forth  to 
avenge  their  second  fallen  comrade. 

But  a  cowardly  prudence  restrained  them, 
and  they  hung  back,  hugging  to  their  hearts 
the  glorious  vengeance  of  which  the  fire 
was  to  be  the  instrument. 

It  was  a  terrible  juncture  for  the  inmates 
of  the  burning  building. 

For  a  short  space  they  fought  the  flames  as 
well  as  they  were  able. 

Had  it  been  ,-tarted  immediately  beneath 
a  wiudow  they  might  have  drowned  it  out. 
But  it  had  not  been,  and  of  the  water  the 
squire  flung  out  not  more  thau  a  quarter 
reached  the  flames— just  enough  to  add  fuel 
to  rather  than  to  quench  it. 

At  last  the  undeniable  truth  staled  them 
in  the  fact — that  there  was  no  salvation  for 
the  building,  that  it  was  doomed 

What  now  could  they  do? 

They  could  not  remain  and   perish   in  the 


»  choose  death 


all- 


There  could  be  no  doubt  that  the  guer- 
rillas would  shoot  them  down  the  minute 
thev  left  the  building. 

Higher  and  higher  the  flames  leaped, 
swiftly    wrapping   the   budding  in   its  fiery 

The  beat  finally  became  unbearable. 

Witli  .-trained,  pale  face  the  squire  gazed 
at  the  loved  members  of  his  family  gathered 
about  him. 


the  wretches  tin 


What  should  he  do? 

How  should  he  advise  ? 

Now  came  a  heavy  tattling  volley  of  mus- 
ketry. 

What  could  it  mean  ? 

"It  is  the  negroes,"  said  Mrs.  Thorn. 
'■Thev  were  frightened  to  death.  As  I  hey 
opened  the  front  door  ami  rushed  out  they 
were  shot." 

Such  was  the  truth. 

This  heavy  volley  was  what  caused  that 
squad  of  L'uion  cavalry  to  make  greater  ex- 
ertions to  reach  the  scene  of  the  conflagra- 
tion. 

At  intervals,  as  one  after  another  of  the 
blacks  darted  across  the  threshold,  there 
came  the  sharp  report  that  said  the  devils 
were  keeping  close  watch. 

The  direction  of  the  wind  was  such  that 
the  lire  spread  in  a  manner  leaving  the  front 
of  the  house  the  last  to  be  touched. 

Toward  this  Squire  Thorn  was  gradually 
forced. 

At  last  only  a  few  feet  separated  them 
from  the  threshold. 

To  cross  this  meant  instant  death! 

To  remain  was  to  be  wrapped  in  the  em- 
brace of  the  leaping  flames  so  swiftly  draw- 
ing near! 

"We  must  go!"  groaned  the  squire,  when 
the  heat  began  to  blister  their  faces. 

"del  preserve  us  !"  murmured  his  wife. 
"(Ih!  if  flic  tlames  might   only  be  seen,  and 


no  longer,"  said  the 
ish  out  together  and 
as  possible.     In  that 


way  some  may  escape.  Wait  until  I  giro 
the  word.    Get  read y—n " 

The  word  "now"  was  trembling  on  his 
lips,  but  did  not  cross  them. 

"Hark  !" 

So  he  suddenly  said,  in  a  hushed  voice. 

What  did  he  hear  ? 

It  was  the  tramp  of  horses'  feet,  swiftly 
rushing  in  the  direction  of  the  house. 

Then  he  heard  a  wild,  indignant  cry. 

This  was  followed  by  a  howl  of  fear  and 
consternation. 

"Thank  God!"  brokenly  murmured  the 
squire.    "Help  has  arrived." 

So  it  had. 

When  they  rushed  from  the  burning 
building  thev  were  not  met  by  a  shower  of 
deadly  bullets. 

The  men  who  would  have  fired  them  were 
now  wildly  flying  toward  their  horses,  flying 
wdiile  they  panted  for  breath,  while  their 
faces  grew  paler  than  those  of  the  victimsof 
their  fiendish  scheme  when  death  by  the 
tlames  stared  them  in  the  face. 

Ou,  like  a  whirlwind  came  the  Union 
cavalry. 

Kit  Langdon — clear-headed  as  ever— noted 
the  direction  in  which  the  men  were  flying. 

"  They  have  concealed  their  horses  in  that 
bit  of  woods,"  he  said,  briefly.  "They  must 
be  cut  off  from  them  or  surrounded.". 

■•  A  good  idea,"  was  the  response. 

A  sharp  order  was  given. 

Promptly  it  was  obeyed,  and  as  willingly 
as  men  ever  obeyed  an  order. 

Tho  blood  was  boiling  within  them,  indig- 
nation was  written  in  every  face. 

Deep  into  the  flanks  of  their  horses  the 
spurs  were  dug. 

The  noble  animals  responded  by  a  last 
wild  burst  of  speed,  and  in  less  time  than  it 
takes  to  tell  it,  the  guerrillas  were  sur- 
rounded. 


men  fought  like  very  fiends. 
Ou  every  hand  was  heard   the  sharp  crack 

of  revolvers,  hoarse  cries  of  anger,  moans  of 
anguish,  with  now  and  then  a  heavy  thud  to 
denote  that  some  man  had  fallen  from  his 
.-addle,  never  to  enter  it  again. 

At  last  it  was  over. 

The  last  shot  had  been  fired. 

The  guerrillas  were  all  either  dead  or 
prisoners. 

Amoug  the  latter  was  Buck  Toole. 

He  had  escaped  unscathed. 

Sullenly  and  defiantly  he  looked  upon  his 
captors. 

Kit  Langdon  recognized  him  a-  tin-  lenii 

and   told   the   commanding   officer    wh 

was. 

Buck  wiuce 

Still  he  managed  to  play  a  bluff  game  until 
the  rope  was  brought  and  he  saw  a  noose 
reeved  in  one  end. 

Then  his  seeming  courage  fled. 

His  face  became  ashen— his  knees  trem- 
bled—his teeth  shattered. 

"You're    not    going    to    hang     me?"     he 


"Itis  murde 

"Yes,  so  it  is." 

"  Minder  in  cold  blood. " 

"Just  about  as  cold  as  the  blood  in  your 
veins  when  von  set  tire  to  yonder  mansion, 
and  riddled' its  inmates  with  bullets  when 
they  fled  the  tlames.'' 

Down  on  his  knees  went  the  redhanded 
wretch  and    begged   and  pleaded  for  merey. 

"  Only  spare  my  life,"  he  wailed.  "  I  don't 
care  what  else  you  do  with  me— only  spare 
my  life." 

Nobody  heeded  his  prayers,  and  he  obtain- 
ed no  response. 

Calmly  and  coolly  the  preparations  were 
made,   and    when  they   were   completed   he 


knot  adjusted  under  his  ear. 

"  Mercy — nierey !"  he  howled. 

Absolute  and  craven  terror  had  taken 
possession  of  him. 

"Can't  you  die  like  a  man  ?"  coutemptu- 
ouslv  said  Sam  Black,  aud  in  his  disgust  at 
such'  absolute  cowardice,  started  to  apply 
his  boot  to  Buck,  but  desisted  on  reflecting 
that  it  would  be  unmanly  on  his  part. 

The  word  was  given. 

The  rope  had  already  been  flung  over  the 
branch  of  a  tree,  and  as  the  word  came 
strong  and  willing  hands  hoisted  Buck 
Toole  Clear  of  tie-  .roth,  which  he  had  so 
long  polluted  with  hi     |.i  i  --'nee. 

Leaving  a  guard  to  watch  and  see  that 
Buck  wa-  not  cut  down,  the  officer.  Kit  and 
other-.  Inn  :  I'd  on  to  sec  it  anything  of  value 


22 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


could  be  saved  from   the  burning  mausion. 

Sad  to  say  they  could  not. 

At  this  spot  thev  remaiueu  all  night,  ami 
in  the  morning  Kit  and  Sam  bade  the  ray- 
airy  commander  adieu,  and  a  start  was  mad'' 
for  the  little  valley  up  in  the  mountains. 

Kit  was  eager  to  get  home,  and  as  the  say- 
ing goes,  did  not  allow  "  the  grass  to  grow 
iiiider  his  feet."  ,  _  , 

In  due  season,  he  entered  the  valle\,and 
shortly  afterward  stood  on  the  threshold  of 
the  little  cottage  of  his  father. 


Ben,  looking 
[  Your  paleness 
iu     have   been 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  REUNION. 
"Kit!"  .  x        „ 

It  was  Belle  who  first  saw  him  standing  on 
the  threshold, 

She  bounded  to  her  feet. 

Her  face  flushed  with  joy. 

She  was  the  first  to  reach  him  as  he  step- 
ped through  t  lie  doorway  and  flinging  her 
arms  around  his  neck,  she  gave  him  a  rous- 

"^He  fissed  her  fondly,  and  then   crossed 

directly  to  where  his  mother  sat:  and,  as  Ben 
had  i lone,  testified  to  the  tender  love  which 
he  bore  for  her. 

Then  he  grasped  his  father's  hand. 

Then  he  exclaimed :  .        . 

"  Harry  Briggs,  this  is  a  surprise  indeed, 
but  even  more  of  a  pleasure  than  a  sur- 

P  As 'he  spoke,  he  shook  Harry  warmly  by 
the  hand. 

"Last,  but  not  least,  Ben,"  he  said,  as  h 
turned  to  his  brother. 

"Brave  Kit!"  exclaimed 
with  pride  at  his  brother.  ' 
of  face  indicates  that  yi 
wounded." 

"I  have  been." 

"Where?" 

"AtShiloh." 

"I  was  there  as  well,"  said  Harry,  with 
wan  smile,  as  Kit   glanced    toward  him,  and 
as  he  spoke  he  nodded  toward  the  arm  in  the 

An  expression   of  pity   leaped  into   Kit's 

I  ""Is  it  bad  Harry?"  he  gently  asked. 
I    "A  hand." 
I    "Gone?" 

Then  'suddenly  Kit  remembered  that  he  had 
for  the  time  being  forgotten  one  who    was 
waiting  outside  of  the  door. 
He  went  to  the  doorway  and  called: 
"Sam  — Sam  Black,  1  want  you." 
Sam     came      shambling      from     around 
flic  corner  of  the  house   with  a  suspiciously 
moist  look  iu  his  eyes. 

He  had  obtained  a  glimpse  of  that  home 
welcome,  aud  for  the  first  time  in  ln>  lite  he 
knew  what  it  was  to  have  nobody  who  is 
bound  to  you  by  the  ties  of  affectionate  re- 
lationship. 
B3t  took  Sam  by  the  arms  aud  brought  him 


"  Sam."  lie  said,  "  this  is  my  father.  ' 
"How   do   you  do,  sir?    A  minister,  sir.' 
Can't  understand  how  you  could  have  such 
a  lion-lighter  for  a  son." 

"Sam— my  mother,"  Kit  went  on,  a  smile 
playing  about  his  lips. 

"How  do  you  do,  ma'am?  A  real  lady, 
I'm  sure,  and  I  love  you  'cause  you're  Kit's 
mother." 

'Sam— my  sister,  Belle." 
"How    do    you    do,    miss?    May    be   you 
wouldn't  mind  shakiu'   hands  with   me,  for 
though  you're  so  much   better  than  I    am, 
you  ain't  so  old." 

Belle  gave  him  her  hand  freely. 

"  And  this,  Sam,  is  Mr.  Harry  Briggs,  a 
dear  friend,  who  lost  his  left  hand  at 
Shiloh."  ,     ,. . 

"How  do  you  do,  sir?  Lost  a  hand,  eh? 
First  day?  Yes?  Well,  now,  I  suppose  you 
was  up  there  on  the  ridge  with  us.  Didn't 
we  just  give  them  Scceshes  the  devil,  hey?" 
speaking  very  eagerly;  and  then,  remember- 
in- he  was  in"  the  pi'cscii. f  ladies,  he  mum- 
bled: "Beggin'  pardon  tor  sayin'  it,  but  we 
du!  give  'em  the  devil,  and  no  mistake." 

"  But,  Sam,  he  wasn't  on  the  ridge,"  said 
Kit. 

"Where  was  he,  then?" 

"In  the  ravine." 

"How'd  he  come  there?" 

"He  went  there  with  his  regiment." 

"Why,  you  don't  mean " 

"Yes,  I  do  mean  that  he  was  fighting  oa 
the  other  side."  , 

"Humph!"  grunted  Sam,  who  had  shook 
Harry  warmly  by  the  hand.  "I'm  glad  I 
shook  hands  with  you  afore  I  knowed  it." 

"  And  this,  Sam,  is  my  brother." 

"Another  Secesh?" 


"Yes,"  said  Ben. 
He  put  out  his  hand. 

Sam  gazed  stolidly  at  it  for  fully  half  a 
minute,  and  then  he  met  it  with  his  own, 
saying: 

"You're  Kit's  brother." 

"Now  that  I  have  introduced  you  to  these 
people,  Sam,  I  must  introduce  them  to  you. 
Mother-  father—  Belle—  Harry— Ben,  this  is 
Sam  Black,-  honest,  faithful,  devoted  Sam 
Black,  who  never  turns  his  back  on  the 
enemy  while  there  is  a  cartridge  iu  his  pos- 
session. . 

"  Furthermore,  to  him  I  owe  my  life.  Ihe 
second  da\  at  Shiloh  settled  me.  I  was  un- 
coiiscious  on  the  field,  anil  must  have  been 
trample.)  to  death  had  not  Sam  here " 

"Go  easy,  Kit,  go  easy,"  interrupted  Sam, 
in  a  nervous  tone.  _ 

"Had  not  Sam  here  remained  by  me  with 
musket  in  hand.  As  you  all  love  me,  you 
must  all  love  him."  . 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Langdon  began  to  thank  him, 
but  Sam  held  up  his  hands  and  piteously  ex- 
claimed : 

"Don't!" 

Belle  looked  shyly  at  him  for  a  moment, 
and  then  her  naturally  sympathetic  nature 
showed  itself. 

She  went  softly  up  to  Sam,  and  as  she  put 
up  her  hps  to  he  kissed,  shesaid: 

"For  Kit's  sake,  I  will  love  you,  Mr. 
Black."  .  ,   .     0 

"No— no!  not  Mr.  Black;  uist  plain  Sam, 
he  said,  and  then,  after  a  doubtful  look  and 
a  moment's  hesitation,  he  bent  and  kissed 

To  Belle's  surprise  he  did  not  stop  here. 

He  caught  her  up  and  seated  her  on  his  hit 
arm,  and  looking  foudly  up  at  heron  her 
elevated  perch,  waved  his  right  hand  and 
shouted  : 

"  Hooray— hooray !" 

When  he  finally  let  her  down  he  anxiously 
asked : 

"  How  old  are  you  ?' 

"Just  eighteen." 

"Kighteen?"  he  repeated.  "Is  that  old 
enough  to  get  married?" 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  blushing  scarlet. 

"Well,  now,"  said  he,  "you  just  see  here. 
Iittlela.lv:  Now,  1  ain't  much  on  good  looks 
I'm  forty  if  I'm  a  day,  and    1  ve  got    lots   ot 

voi'in''  as  can  bo,  amfit's  chock'  fuu'ofVit 
and  you.  Now,  then,  if  you  don't  find  ex- 
actly" the  kind  of  a  fellow  you  like,  and  feel 
as  it  you  wanted  a  husband,  why  just  say 
the  word,  and  hang  me  if  I  won't  run  the 
risk  of  being  hitched  to  a  woman!" 

Never  in  all  his  life  was  Sam  more  earnest 
than  in  making  this  speech. 

They  all  saw  that  it  came  from  his  heart, 
and  tried  their  best  not  to  laugh.  Nor  did 
they,  until  he  added,  a  little  anxiously  : 

"Of  course  I'd  want  all  haudS  to  be  satis- 
fied." 

"  1  hold  in  no  longer,  and  the 
eed  as  thev  laughed, 
rderstand  it. 

on  came  into  his  face  at  the 
,    ..  ere  laughing  at  him. 
said   Kit,  as  he  kindly  placed  a 


Neither  had  he. 

There  had  been  so  many  other  things  to 
think  about  and  talk  of,  that  were  pleasant 

and  bright,  that  thematter  had  not  been  re- 
verted to  after  Kit's  arrival,  all  the  explana- 
tions having  preceded  that  event. 

When  Kit  asked  about  it,  Belle  briefly 
told  how  she  had  been  twice  abducted,  and 
once  nearly  forced  into  marrying  Buck 
Toole. 

"  And  to  think,"   she  said,  with  a  shuddei 
"I  suppose   I   should  have  actually  becoiu 
his  wife  if  Ben  hadn't  comein  as  suddenly 
if  he'd  dropped  from  the  skies." 

"  I  wanted  to  tell  vou  all  these  things,  K 
the  day   we  captured  you,   but  you  did 
have  time  just  theu    and  as  you  decided  =o 
suddenly  ou  leaving  us,  I  didn't  have  an  op- 
purtuuih  afterward." 

"  Kit  was  too  smart  for  you,  now  wasn't 
he?"  chuckled  Sam. 

"Granted!"  laughed  Ben  :  "and  now,  Kit, 
do  you  know  what  Morgan  said  of  you  ?" 

"Certainly  not." 

"  He  said  that  you  were  the  finest    speci- 
men of  a  soldier  he'd  ever  seen,  not  even  ex- 
cepting myself.    Aslstandvery    high  iu  his 
that  is  saying  a  great  deal." 

'      you 


ept 

stee 


Then  t! 
rafters  I: 

Sam  CO 

A  hurt 
idea  that 

"Sam,' 
hand  on  his  shoulder;  "we're  laughing  he- 
cause  you've  spoke  too  late  in  the  day.  She  s 
already  bargained  for." 

"Is  that  so?"  .  .    . 

There  was  something  akin  to  disappoint- 
ment in  Sam's  tone. 

'Yes." 

"  Who's  the  chap  ?" 

"Mr.  Harry  Briggs  there." 

"She'sgoing  to  marry  a  Secesher? 

"Don't  like  it,"  grunted  Sam.  "Bust  me 
if  I  ain't  a  mind  to  run  away  with  the  girl, 
su's  he  can't  marry  her." 

"  He's  a  square  and  honest  young  t.llow. 
Sam,"  Kit  gravely  said.  "The  only  fault  1 
can  find  with  him,  and  I  have  known  him 
many  years,  that  he  differs  with  me  in  his 
opinion  of  who  is  right  and  who  wrong  in 
this  great  struggle.'' 

■•  Well— well— may  be,"  said  Sam,  relent- 
ing. "I'll  take  your  word,  Kit.  Be  kind  to 
him 


Thank  General  Morgan  for  me  ' 
sec  him  again." 

"I  will;  but  now  to  settle  this  other  mat- 
ter.   I    want   to    make    a  start  to-morrow 
morning    if    possible,    and  try  to  run  this 
Buck  Toole  to  earth." 
"There  is  no  need  of  hunting  for  him." 
"Why  not?" 

"Because  1  know  exactly  where  he  is. 
"Where?" 

"  About  two  hundred  yards  to  the  south 
of  Squire  Thorn's  place." 

"There  is  some  other  meaning    to    your 
words,"   said  Ben,   a  puzzled  expression  on 
his  face. 
"  Possibly." 

"  And    you    have  reason   to   believe  he  is 
there  now?" 
"I  have." 

"Come,  Kit,  why  this  provokiugly  myste- 
rious way  of  answering." 

"There  is  nothing  mysterious  about  my 
answers.     Do  you  think  so,  Sam  ?" 
"Not  a  bit,''  with  a  chuckle. 
"What  is  Buck   doing  there?"    Ben    next 
asked,  determined   to  get  at  the  bottom  of 
the  matter. 
"Nothing." 

"  Is  he  there  hatching  up  some  new  dev- 
iltry ?" 

"  He's  beyond  that." 

"  Vh '"  as"a  now   lii-dit    began    to   break  iu 

ou  Ben's  mind.     "1   begin"  to    understand. 

There  is  a  large  I. lack-walnut  tree  about  the 

distance  mentioned  south  of  Squire  Thorn's." 

"There  is,"  said  Kit. 

Again  Sam  chuckled. 

"There's  a  rope  hitched  fast  to  one  ot  the 
limbs  of  that  tree,"  he  said. 

"  Aud  the  other  end " 

"Is  hitched  around  that  same  rascals 
neck,"  said  Sam;  "and  I  fixed  the  slip- 
knot." . ,  ■ 

"So  now,  Ben,  you  can  see,  said  kit, 
"that  there  is  no  need  of  getting  up  that 
little  party,  for  the  insults  that  Belle  has 
suffered  at  his  hand  have  been  avenged  and 
he  is  beyond  power  to  do  her  further  harm." 
Then  "Kit  explained  how  it  all  happened, 
giving  them  a  description  of  what  occurred, 


Miss  Belle,  after  you're  married  to 
him." 

"I'll  try,"  laughed  Belle. 

That  evening,  when  they  gathered  after 
supper,  Ben  asked  his  father  how  many  able 
men  were  in  the  settlement. 

"  Four,  including  myself,  at  the  present 
time;  ami  not  including  you  four." 

"  Of  whom  two,  only— myself  and  Sam- 
are  fit  for  the  business  in  hand." 

"Which  is?"  said  Kit. 

"To  finish  the  abductor  of  our  little 
darling  here,"  said  Ben. 

"Abducted?  How— I  have  not  heard  of 
it?" 


s  already  known  to  the  reader,  and— hence 
unnecessary  to  repeat  here. 
For  the  space  of  a  week  the  family  were 

Then  Ben  announced  that  he  must  leave 
ou  the  following  day. 

"Aud  that,"  said  he,  "  brings  us  to  a  point 
we  must  discuss,  what  are  the  future  actions 
of  all  of  us  ?  You,  Kit,  will  return,  wheu  re- 
covered, to  the  army?" 

"And  I,  of  course,  must  go  back.  Now, 
father,  do  vou  think  it  best  to  remain  here  ?" 

"I  do,"  was  the  reply.  "Wheu  the  Con- 
federate influence  exteuded  to  the  north  of 
us  we  might  better  have  been  away  from 
here;  but  then  we  couldn't  get  away.  Now 
that  the  Union  lines  are  to  the  south  of  ns 
there  is  no  need  for  going."  . 

"The  Union  army  may  be  driven  back, 
said  Ben.  ,,  •    . 

"I  am  sorry  for  you,  B^u,"  said  kit,  just 
here,  "but  the  Confederate  army  can  never 
regain  the  ground.  Shiloh  is  only  the  com- 
mencement of  a  series  of  blows  which  are 
going  to  crush  you." 

"In  all  candor,  I  believe  it  possible,  was 
the  reply,  "although,  from  the  bottom  of 
my  heart,  I  hope  otherwise.  Then,  father, 
you  will  remain  here?" 

J  iivmii 


THE  WA.K  LIBRARY. 


23 


"I'd  like  to  stay  myself,"  said  Harry, 
bluntly,  and  then  cast  at  Belle  a  look  that 
made  her  grow  suddenly  red. 

"A  good  idea,"  said  lien,  warmly.  "Come, 
Belle,  say  the  word  and  make  Harry  happy. 
Let's  have  the  wedding  to-morrow  night, 
and  I'll  defer  my  departure  until  after  the 
ceremony.    What  do  you  say,  Belle  ?" 

"Why,  that  you're  real  mean  !"  exclaimed 
the  little  maiden. 

"  Is  it  yes  or  no  ?" 

"  Would  it  please  you  very  much  ?" 

"  Yes.  I  should  feel  much  easier  in  mind 
could  I  know  that  Harry  were  to  remain 
here.  With  only  one  hand  he's  a  match  even 
now  for  two  ordinary  men." 

Belle  looked  at  Kit. 

"  I  agree  with  Ben,"  he  said. 

"I  don't  think  that  arrangement  would 
suit  Han-v,"  Belle  now  said,  demurely. 

"  It's  settled,"  said  Harry,  after  springing 
to  Belle's  side,  kissing  her  rosebud  lips,  and 
then  placing  his  mouth  in  such  a  position 
to  the  girl's  car  that  Sam  began  to  grow  un- 
eas\  lest  that  pretty  sea-shell  appendage 
might  be  accidentally  injured  between  Har- 
ry's strong,  white  teeth. 

So  the  next  night  there  was  a  wedding. 

Mr.  Langdou"  performed  the  ceremony, 
while  Kit  gave  an  ay  the  bride. 

When  it  was  over  Sam  choked  down  a  sol), 
and  muttered  to  himself: 

"  Well,  I  s'pose  he's  best  suited  to  her,  but, 
blame  me.  the  more  I  see  of  her  the  more  I 
feel  asif  I'd  like  to  run  the  risk  myself." 

An  hour  after  Belle  Langdou  became  Mr-. 
Harry  Briggs,  Ben  took  his  leave  of  them,  to 
return  to  the  front. 

Two  weeks  later  Kit  was  sufficiently  recov- 
ered to  return  to  his  command,  and  with 
him  of  course  went  Sam. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

CONCLUSION. 

The  limits  of  our  story  prevent  us  follow- 
ing in  detail  the  army"  lit.' of  Kit  Langdon 
bevond  the  battle  we  iiavealreadv  described 
— Shiloh. 

Hence  we  can  only  hastily  sketch  it — give 
the  mere  outlines. 

He  was  back  in  his  regiment  in  time  to  go 
into  the  scries  of  skirmishes  that  commenced 
soon  after. 

History  tells  us  that  General  Beauregard, 
after  the  battle  of  Shiloh,  fell  back  to  Cor- 
inth, which  place  he  at  once  began  to  strong- 
ly fortify. 

Meanwhile,  the  Union  army  was  re- 
arranged, and  new  troopsadded,  and,  having 
advanced  slowly  but  steadily,  the  Federals 
soon  were  within  a  few  miles  of  ( 'orinth. 

Every  preparation  was  made  to  stubborn- 
ly defend  this  place,  for  it  was  the  key  to  all 
the  territory  south  of  it.  Should  Corinth 
fall,  it  opened  up  the  Mississippi  River  to  the 
Federals  from  its  source  to  its  mouth. 

So  on  the  ninth  of  May  the  Confederates 
sallied  forth  to  check  the  Union  army,  and, 
if  possible,  prevent  a  nearer  approach,  and 
were  successful  driving  back  the  Federal 
general,  Pope. 

But  this  was  only  temporary  ;  and  day  af- 
ter day  the  Union  army  drew  closer  to  the 
doomed  place,  which  the  rebels  could  not 
save,  stru  ggle  as  they  might. 

Day  after  day  they  issued  forth  and  gave 
battle  to  the  foe  who  was  pressing  them  so 
hard. 

In  one  of  these  skirmishes  it  fell  to  Kit's 
lot  to  rescue  a  brigade  commander  who  had 
been  snapped  up  by  a  party  of  rebel  cavalry. 
It  was  a  brave  thing— and  as  cool-headed 
as  it  was  brave— and  for  it  congress  voted 
him  a  medal  in  commemoration  of  the  ex- 
ploit, and  shortly  afterward,  having  had  at- 
tention called  to  the  Fort  Donclson  affair, 
|  granted  him  another  for  his  conduct  prior 
I  to  and  at  the  time  of  the  engagement. 
;  His  rescue  .if  his  brigadecommauderruade 
!  him  hosts  of  powerful  friends,  and  he  was 
j  urged  again  and  again  to  consent  to  having 
a  commission  secured  for  him. 

But  he  adhered  firmly  to  the  determina- 
tion to  remain  only  a  private!" 

On  May  21,  General  Halleck's  batteries  had 
advanced  to  within  three  miles  of  Corinth; 
and  then  the  rebels  themselves  saw  aud  un- 
derstood that  the  place  was  doomed,  that 
they  could  not  hold  it. 

All  preparations  had  been  made  by  the 
Union  army  for  a  long  siege,  which  was 
made  unnecessary  by  Beauregard,  who,  like 
the  Arab, 


Ho  evacuated  Corinth  on  the  thirtieth  of 
May,  during  the  early  hours  of  the  morn- 
ing  while  darkness    still    enshrouded   the 


earth;  and    when  daj    dawned   the  Federals 


It  would  please  us  to  follow  Kit  Langdon 
through  the  succeeding  months,  but,  as  we 
have  stated,  it  is  impossible  at  least  in  this 
time  and  place. 

Wherever  there  was  fighting  there  Kit 
Langdon  was! 

Where  Kit  Langdon  was,  there  also  was 
Sam  Black ! 

Perry  ville ! 

Murfroesboro  !  (Stone  River.) 

Libei  ty ! 

Hoover's  Gap ! 

( 'hattanooga! 

Chiekamauga! 

The  surest  ions  contained  in  the  mention 

of  the  foregoing  battlefields  or  skirmishings 

11  be  a  key  to  every  man  who  went  through 


Now  for  a  few  linal  wards. 
in 
of  the  war,  leaving  as  he  had   entered— only 


Kit  Langdon  served  through  until  the  end 
a  private. 


But  that  did  not  mean  that  he  had  not 
gained  credit  and  glory,  or  that  he  had 
acted  a  less  noble  part  than  many  another 
man  who  was  proud  of    his  shoulder-straps 


Sam  Black  fought  side  bv   side   with  him, 
ge  on  the 
bore  him  company  back  to  the  valley  in  the 


received  his  discha 


:  on  the  same  day,  and 


mountains. 

Here  the  old  folks  had  remained  over 
since,  aud  with  them  Harry  aud  Belle  still 
were. 

This  was  the  first  time  Kit  had  seen  them 
since  parting  the  last  time,  although  he  kept 
up  a  regular  communication  with  them. 

By  means  of  these  letters.  Kit  knew  that  a 
little  baby  boy  had  come  to  Belle,  but  it  was 
not  until 'they  got  back  that  it  transpired 
that  Belle  had  named  him  Samuel  Black 
Briggs. 

She  had  always  felt  a  deep  sympathy  for 
the  honest  fellow,  and  named  her  firstborn 
after  him. 

Sam,  as  the  negress  Hi  expressed  it,  "  hab 
gone  cleah  off  de  handle  ober  dat  dere 
chile." 

He  certainly  was  very  much  pleased  over 
it  as  well  as  its  name,  and  lie  one  day  told 
himself  in  confidence  that  everything  surely 
turned  out  for  the  best. 

"For,"  quoth  he,"  here's  a  bright  little  boy 
who  loves  me  as  much  as  he  knows  how, 
and  bears  my  name,  and  another  man  runs 
all  the  risk!" 

Aud  then  he  chuckled  softly. 

After  Ben's  departure  on  his  sister's  wed- 
ding night,  very  little  was  heard  from  him, 
and  that  only  indirectly. 

But,  a  few  months  after  the  fall  of  Rich- 
mond, he  cam.  home. 

He  bad  been  with  Morgan  until  the  very 
last,  had  accompanied  him  on  his  last  daring 
raid,  in  which  the  dashing  commander  of 
cavalry  lost  his  life. 

Morgan  was  a   magnificent   fellow,"  Ben 


way,  Kit,  I  gave  him  that  message  of  yours. 

"Ah!  and  what  did  he  say?" 

"'  I  know  that  man.  I'll  write  him  to  come 
and  dine  with  us  some  day,  and  I'll  give  him 
an  escort  here  and  back.'  " 

It  is  very  seldom  that  the  war  is  ever  al- 
luded to  in  the  Langdon  family.  Not  be- 
cause there  would  be  any  jar,  for,  although 
divided  in  their  convictions  at  the  time,  each 
knew  the  other  was  absolutely  honest  and 
sincere;  but  they  avoid  it  rather  because 
they  all  feel  that  "it  issettled— is  best  so— and 
explanations  are  not  ueceesary. 

But  Sam  will  talk. 

He  can't  be  choked  off  talking  about  the 

And  nothing  pleases  him  so  much  as  to 
corner  little  Sam— not  so  little  now— and  tell 
him  tales  of  peril  aud  adventures  in  the  war, 
in  all  of  which  he  acts  a  very  modest  part, 
w  bile  vhe  hero  always  is  his  Uncle  Kit,  who 
really  served  his  country  truly  and  well, 
even  though  he  was  Only  a  Private. 

[THE    END.] 

The  Major's  Story. 

The  major  had  shown  at  his  best,  aud  we 
had  listened  to  his  humorous  narrative  with 
keen  delight. 

So  the  dinner  had  passed  and  the  dessert 
was  before  us,  the  servants  had  been  dis- 
missed, and  cigars  were  lighted. 


Then  one  of  those  unaccountable  silences 
that  come  to  such  assemblages  fell  upon  us, 
aud  we  puffed  away  at  our  cigars  and  said 
nothing,  until  the  stillness  grew  strangely 
weird  and  powerful. 

Suddenly  the  major  stopped  smoking,  aud, 
looking  at  each  of  us  in  turn,  said  : 

"You  have  often  wondered  why  I  am  not 
married,  and  now  I  will  tell  you. 


have  thought  that  the  secret  should  be  shar- 
ed between  us. 

"  When  the  war  came  I  had  but  just  grad- 
uated from  college,  and,  as  you  know,  en- 
listed as  a  private. 

"  It  was  no  easy  matter  for  me  to  do  this, 
but  I  felt  it  to  lie  my  duty. 

"I  was  young,  strong,  and  able  to  fight.  I 
bad  mean's  to  make  the  life  of  a  soldier  as 
comfortable  :is  it  could  be  made,  and.  while 
my  mind  longed  for  literary  and  peaceful 
scenes,  1  still  felt  that  I  owed  my  country  a 
duty. 

"  It  was  but  a  short  time  after  1  enlisted 
when  we  were  ordered  south. 

"  The  regiment,  as  you  know,  had  hard 
work  and  plenty  of  it,  but  my  part  was  as 
well  rewarded  as  I  could  wish,  for  I  was  soon 
advanced  to  the  command   of  my  company. 

"You  remember  the  time  when  we  went 
south  of  the  Rappahannock,  aud  were  quar- 
tered in  that  queer  little  village,  when  even, 
though  we  were  foes,  the  people  treated  us 
so  kindly  ? 

"You  must  also  remember  the  large  house 
back  of  the  village,  the  one  that  crowned 
the  hill  on  whose  side  were  so  many  or- 
chards ? 

••  Well,  I  had  been  but  a  day  in  the  village 
when  I  found  out  that  it  was  the  native 
place  of  Harry  Wayne,  my  college  ehum, 
and  also  that  the  house  on  the  hill  was  his 
home. 

"For  a  few  days  I  refrained  from  calling, 
thinking  that  my  uniform  might  be  distaste- 
ful to  Harry's  mother  and  sisters,  for  he  had 
gone  with  his  state  and  was  an  officer  in 
Lee's  army.  At  last  my  desire  to  know 
something  of  my  old  friend  grew  too  strong 
to  be  kept  down  by  such  scruples,  and  one 
afternoon,  I  walked  to  the  house,  and,  pass- 
ing up  the  broad  carriageway,  running  from 
the  road  to  the  door,  went  slowly  up  the 
steps  leading  to  the  pleasant  and  shady  ver- 
anda, and  just  as  I  was  about  sounding  the 
massive  old-fashioned  knocker,  the  door 
was  thrown  open  and  a  young  aud  beautiful 
woman  stood  before  me. 

"The  laugh  that  had  been  a  minute  before 
rippling  from  her  lips  ceased,  and  she  start- 
ed back  with  a  slight  gesture  of  alarm,  but 
my  doffed  cap  and  peaceful  attitude  reas- 
sured her,  and  she  stood  waiting. 

"  '  Is  Mrs.  Wayne  in'/'  I  asked. 

"'My  mother  is  at  home;  who  shall  I  say 
desires  to  see  her?' 

'"  Charles  Talbot,  a  classmate  of  her  son, 
and  at  present  with  the  regiment  quartered 
in  the  village.' 

"  '  What!  are  you  the  Charley  Talbot  who 
was  Harry's  chum  at  college  V 

"  'I  am.' 

"  'Then  come  in,  for  we  all  seem  to  know 
you,  aud,  though  on  opposite  sides,  are 
friends,'  and  she  held  out  her  hand. 


bright  eyes  that  were  upturned  to  mine. 

"'I  am  Mabel  Wayne,  Harry's  sister,' she 
went  on.  '"We  have  heard  so  much  from 
Harry  concerning  you,  and  your  kindness  to 
him,  that  we  have  often  longed  to  meet  you. 
Harry  said  that  he  knew  you  would  be  in 
the  Northern  army ;  but  for  us,  in  your 
case,  there  is  no  war.  Please  be  seated,  and 
I  will  call  mother.' 

"  We  had  passed  into  a  large,  airy  draw- 
ing-room while  she  had  been  speaking.  Here 
she  left  me,  and  soon  returned  with  a  I 
middle-aged  ladv,  whose  beauty  was  of' 
that  quiet,  motherly  kind,  so  rich  in  the| 
power  that  makes  one  comfortable  and  at 


that  I  had  raised  against  love —  barriers  ol 
which  I  had  made  many  boasts  to  myself- 
and  I  knew  that,  come  what  would,  my 
future  life  would  garner  its  joy  from  her 
kindness,  or  have  no  joy  at  all. 

"  I  was  invited  to  remain  to  supper,  and  did 
so ;  and  when  my  duty  forced  me  to  take 
my  leave,  I  asked  to  make  my  calls  as  fre- 
quent as  my  time  and  inclination  would  per- 


24 


■HE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


my  visits  very  short,  ami  I  soon  noticed  that 
the  door  was  opened  by  Mabel  often  ere  I 
had  reached  the  steps  leading  to  the  veran- 
dah. 

"  Who  eould  mistake  tlie  motiveof  such  a 
mark  of  favor?  And  you  ean  know  that  to 
my  soul  this  brought  a  glory  that  was 
brighter  than  sunshine,  and  whose  music 
was  sweeter  than  the  spring  chorus  of  birds. 

"  I  have  not  told  you  of  Mabel  Wayne's 
'  beauty.  It  was  of  that  clear  Saxon  type, 
'  which  denotes  a  bright  and  sunny  dis- 
position. She  was  as  merry  as  one  could 
wish,  possessing  a  finely  cultivated  mind,  a 
sparkling  wit,  and  a  sweet,  ringing  voice, 
that  made  it  a  delight  to  sit  and  listen  to 
hear  her  talk. 

"As  you  know,  we  were  quartered  two 
months  in  that  village;  but  before  my  regi- 
ment marched  south  I  had  asked  Mabel  to 
be  my  wife,  and  her  low  voice  told  of  a  love 
that  I  knew  would  bless  me  all  through  the 

"  Her  mother  gave  a  willing  consent,  and 
the  time  fixed  for  our  union  was  the  close  of 
the  war. 

"Then  came  our  marching  orders,  and  the 
raid  in  which  I  won  my  major's  commission. 
During  the  year  which  followed,  .and  the 
campaign  of  which  Gettysburg  was  the  con- 
clu.-ion,  I  heard  frequently  from  Mabel,  for 
the  communication  between  her  home  and 
our  lines  was  kept  open.  The  last  tremend- 
ousstruggle  southward  with  Grant  followed 
this,  and  as  you  all  know  we  were  on  patrol 
duty  and  re'coiiuoitering  all  the  time;  and 
when  the  flank  movement  began  kept  well 
on  the  outskirts  of  the  army,  and  made  that 
last  raid  down  the  peninsula  which  brought 
the  crisis  of  ray  life. 

"Do  you  remember  the  day  we  were  ex- 
pecting  to  meet  Fitz  Hugh's  men?  I  was  on 
picket  duty  that  evening,  and  had  a  battal- 
ion of  our  regiment  deployed  along  a  road 
that  ran  through  some  broken  country. 
Just  after  night  began  to  deepen,  and  the 
shadows  lay  heavy  between  the  trees  that 
flanked  the  road,  "the  rapid  gallop  of  a  horse 
sounded  up  from  a  narrow  valley,  and,  tell- 
ing the  men  near  to  be  ready,  I  rode  down 
the  sloping  ground  to  meet  the  person  ap- 
proaching. Soon  1  came  to  a  place  that  gave 
me  command  of  a  long  stretch  of  road  and 
halted  just  in  the  shadow.  In  another  mo- 
ment a  horseman  dashed  into  view,  and 
came  rapidly  toward  me.  As  soon  as  my 
voice  could  be  heard  I  commanded  a  halt, 
but  the  older  was  unheeded. 

"'Halt,  or  I  tire!'  I  cried,  and  still  the 
horse  came  dashing  on,  and  the  next  mo- 
ment mv  pistol  was  leveled,  and  the  sharp 
report  run- out  on  the  still  night.  With  a 
low  cry  the  horseman  tumbled  from  the 
saddle. 'and  then  the  flutter  of  a  white  robe 
made  me  spring  to   the  ground    and  run  to 


whe 


'The 


■  the 


iken  for  a  foe  was 
it  over  the  white 
fold,  for  it  was  the 


>f  Mi 


V  arms,  and  her  eyes  look- 
ed up  into  mine  so'full  of  love  that  I  sobbed 
like  a  child. 

"'Oh,  my  darling— my  darling!'  I  cried, 
"  '  what  brought  you  here  ?' 

"'I  heard  you  weie  with  the  troops, 
Charlie,  and  I  wished  to  see  you.' 

"  '  And  I  have  killed  you,  and  blighted  my 
life,'  I  answered. 

'"No,  not  blighted  it,  Charlie.  You  did 
not  mean  to  harm  me,  and  it  was  my 
fault.' 

"Even  with  the  chill  of  death  making 
her  blood  grow  cold,  her  love  would  not  let 
me  bear  bkmie. 

"I  saw  she  was  rapidly  growing  weaker; 
and,  saying  I  would  get  a  surgeon,  was  turn- 
ing iiwii\ .  when  she  stopped  me. 

'"No,  it  will  be  useless,' she  said.  'lam 
visiting  at  a  house  only  a  short  distance 
awav;  take  me  there.' 

"  Binding  up  the  wound  as  well  as  I  could, 
I  obeyed  her.  And  in  that  house,  clasped 
in  my  arms,  her  head  on  my  heart,  she  died, 
and.there  I  left  her  lving  asleep. 

"  I  wrote  an  account  of  the  affair  and  sent 
it  to  her  mother,  and  one  to  Harry. 

"They  both  answered,  telling  me  theyheld 
»e  free  from  blame. 

"But  more  comforting  than  this,  more 
comforting  than  aught  but  her  living,  from 
here  is  the  knowledge  I  have  that  her  spirit 
is  with  me ;  that  her  love  is  still  my  own,  and 

"  I  have  seen  her  face;  I  have  heard  her 
•i'oiee;  I  have  felt  the  pressure  of  her  lips, 
and  soon  we  will  bo  together,  and  the  love 
that  was  separated  for  a  time  will  ke  joined 
in  Heaven  for  all  eternity. 

"I  can  see  her  now,  as  beautiful  and  kind 


as  in  the  old  years.  Yes,  I  can  see  her,  and 
sin-  is  mine." 

The  major  ceased  talking. 

A  glad  light  grew  brilliant  in  his  eyes  and 
suffused  his  face. 

Then  he  covered  it  with  his  hands. 

We  did  not  say  anything  for  a  time;  but  at 
last  the  silence  grew  oppressive. 

"Let  us  take  some  wine,"  said  the  colonel. 
And  all  but  the  major  Idled  their  glasses. 

"Will  you  not  join  us,  major?"  said  the 
colonel. 

He  did  not  answer,  and  the  colonel  rose, 
and,  going  to  his  side,  touched  him. 

There  was  no  response. 

The  colonel  took  down  his  hands,  and  a 
chill  fell  upon  us. 

The  major  was  dead. 

General  Sickles  Fighting  His  Bat- 
tles Over  Again. 

A  correspondent  of  the  Boston  Hi ■rahl  en- 
countered General  Daniel  K.  Sickles  on  are- 
cent  visit  to  Gettysburg!!  battlefield,  and 
writes  as  follows  :  Wearied  by  a  long  tramp 
on  crutches,  General  Sickles  seated  himself 
on  a  great  bowlder  near  where  he  was 
wounded.  He  looked  over  the  field  care- 
fully, as  if  to  recall  the  situation  on  that 
memorable  day,  and  continued :  "  A  few 
moments  before  I  was  wounded,  I  had,  at 
the  suggestion  of  my  staff,  passed  around 
the  farmhouse  yonder,  1  had  been  standing 
on  the  brow  of  the  hill,  just  above  the  barn. 
when  several  of  my  staff  insisted  that  I  had 
better  put  myself  out  of  range  of  a  heavy 
fire  then  concentrated  upon  us,  '  If  you 
will  show  me  a  spot  on  the  field  where  the 
bullets  are  not  falling  thick,  I  should  like  to 
see  it,'  I  replied. 

A  few  moments  afterward  I  rode  around 
through  the  low  ground  below  the  house 
and  up  to  this  knoll.  I  had  hardly  reached 
it  when  the  shot  struck  me.  It  was  at  a 
most  critical  moment  in  the  turning  of  that 
eventful  day.  A  projectile  from  the  enemy's 
artillery  did  the  work.  In  the  peach  or- 
chard anil  the  wheat -field  over  there  a  dread- 
ful scene  had  been  enacted.  Over  and  over 
again  had  the  ground  been  fought;  a  baud 
to-hand  light  of  desperate  men,  where  the 
soldiers  of  the  Third  ( 'orps  faced  great  odds,' 
but  where  thev  stood  lii.e  men  wrestling  in 
a  battle,  the  like  of  whi.  Ii  was  never   before 


from  r 
siblel  : 
mel  of 

horse  t 


struck  I  did  not  realize 
lry.  and  did  not  stir 
Then  as  gently  as  pos- 
lied  leg  over  the  pom- 
slowly  slid  from  my 
c.     Bv  this  time  I  was 


"  Hurriedly  calling  to  a  trooper  near  by,  I 
ordered  him  to  bring  me  a  strap  from  his 
saddle,  and  with  his  aid  I  bound  the  leg  close 
up  to  the  body,  stationed  a  guard  of  twenty 
men  about  me,  and  directed  that  no  surgeon 
be  allowed  to  disturb  me  until  the  arrival  of 
Dr.  Calhoun.  I  felt,  if  the  leg  must  come 
off,  I  would  take  my  own  choice  of  surgeons 
for  the  operation.  I  had  no  sooner  been 
wounded  than  the  conflict  along  the  line  be- 
came more  terrific  than  ever.  The  men  iu 
the  peach  orchard  and  wheat-field,  and  in- 
deed along  the  whole  line,  had  stir,  en  as 
only  men  of  their  mettle  could  do.  How 
galiauth  tliev  fonirht,  words  can  never  des- 
cribe. They  had  been  forced  to  yield  the 
position  in  the  orchard,  and  came  falling 
back  toward  the  spot  where  I  lay.  In  a 
minute  I  was  removed  from  the  ground  to 
the  field  hospital.  On  the  Baltimore  pike 
that  night,  m  the  gloaming,  Dr.  Calhoun 
cut  off  the  useless  limb." 

As  the  veteran  told  the  story  of  the  light, 
another  soldier  of  that  famous  dav  sat  near. 
Colonel  Randolph,  Chief  of  Artillery  of  the 
Third  Cor] is,  who  had  come  all  the  way  from 
Colorado  to  visit  the  old  field  with  his  chief. 
As  each  critical  point  in  the  day's  desperate 
business  was  gone  over  the  'talk  became 
more  interesting. 

"  Was  there  ever  any  serious  question  as  to 
the  position  you  took'that  day?" 

"  Some  critics  who  kuew  nothing  of  the 
circumstances  or  needs  of  the  hour  have, 
since  the  war,  indulged  in  some  idle  talk 
about  mv  position,  about  bringing  on  the 
battle  too  soon,  etc.  The  absurdity  about 
forcing  the  fight  too  early  is  seen  in  the  fact, 
that  the  euemv  decided  the  hour  of  the  bat- 
tle bv  attacking  iu  such  force  that  I  was 
obliged  to  fight,  whether  I  wanted  tool  not. 
These  latter-day  military  critics  say  I  ought 
to  have  taken  position  along  the  low  ground 
running  from  Bound  Top  toward  Cemetery 
Hill.  In  other  words,  to  have  formed  iu  the 
hollow  arid  given  the  enemy  the  advantage 


of  the  hills  along  our  front  and  to  have  left 
the  Ronnd  Top  entirely  uncovered.  Look- 
ing over  the  position  now,  after  nearly 
twenty  years,  I  see  nothing  that  I  would 
.  hange  either  in  it  or  in  any  operations  of 
that  day.  I  am  entirely  content  to  abide  by 
the  judgment  of  those  who  are  competent  to 
criticise,  and  I  am  glad  to  know  that  my 
judgment  is  sustained  by  all  such  military 
officers  as  have  knowledge  of  the  cii 
stances  and  looked  over  the  grounds." 


Catalogue  of  The  War  Library. 


All  Earlier  Numbers  in  Print. 


229  UNDER  GUARD;  or,  Raid  and 
Battle    in    Kentucky,     By  Corporal 

Morris  Huyne. 

230  BATTERY  BOB;  or,  Crest  and 
Plain  at  Fredericksburg.  By  An- 
thony P.  Morris. 

23  I  SIGNAL  SERVICE  SAM  ;  or,  The 
Siege  of  Knoxvi  lie.  By  Ward  Edwards, 
"  High  Private,"  I '.  S.  V. 

232  THE  WAR  DETECTIVE;  or,  Se- 
cret Service  in  the  Rebellion.    A 

Story  of  Booth's  Great  Conspiracy.    By  Maj. 
A.  F.  Grant. 

233  PHIL,  THE  SCOUT  ;  or,  A  Fight 
for  Beauregard's  Dispatches.  A 
Story  of  Pittsburg  Landing.  By  Captain 
I  lean  Verne. 

234-"  TO  HORSE  ;  "  or,  The  Winged 
Scout  Of  Ceorgia.  By  Anthony  P. 
Morris. 

235  LION-HEARTED  LUKE  ;  or,  The 
Plan   to  Capture   Mosby.    A  Story 


Edv 


236  THE  SWORD  CHAMPIONS  ; ;  or, 
Rival    Spies  of  Chancellorsville. 

A  Story  of  the  Batt  les  in  the  Thickets  of  the 
Happahannock.     By  Anthony  P.  Morris. 

237  -LOYAL  NED;  or,  The  Last  Cruise 
of  the  Alabama.  A  Romance  of  the 
Famous  Kebel  Privateer.  By  theauthorof 
"Before  Petersburg." 

238  THE  RIVAL  CADETS ;  or,  From 
West  Point  to  Battlefields.  A  Stir- 
ring Story  of  Adventure  in  the  Late  War. 
By  Ward  Edwards,  V.  S.  V 

239  KILPATRICK'S  BEST  BOWER; 
or,   A    Cavalry    Sweep    Through 

Ceorgia.     By  Marline  Manly. 

240  ON  SHILOH'S  FIELD  ;  or,  Fight- 
ing Kit  of  Kentucky.  By  Ward  Ed- 
wards, "  High  Private,"  U.  S.  V. 

[Ready  April  18. 

24  1  THE  WAR  REPORTER;  or,  Bat- 
tle Smoke  Among  the  Mount- 
ains. By  Hugh  Allen,  of  the  New  York 
Press.  [Ready  April  23. 

242-SHARPSHOOTER  AND  SPY;  or, 
The  Terrible  Panic  at  Bull  Run. 
By  Major  A.  P.  Grant.  [Ready  April 30. 

243  MAD  SAM  THE  CAVALRYMAN; 
or,  With  Sheridan  in  the  Shenan- 
doah.    Bv  Mark  Wilton.     [Ready  May?. 

244  THE  MOUNTAIN  CANNONEER; 
or,  A  War  Mystery  of  Antietam. 
By  Anthony  P.  Morris.  [Heady  May  14. 

245-TAKEN  AT  FREDERICK  S- 
BURC  ;  or,  The  Creat  Tun  nel  at 
Libby  Prison.  By  Aleck  Forbes,  "War 
Correspondent"  [Ready  May  21. 

246  CHICKAHOMINY  JOE;  or,  Mc- 
Clellan's  Wonderful  Boy  Spy.  By 
Ward  Edwards,  U.  S.  V.  [Ready  May  28 


S  3E»  E  CIAIi 


:rci  ow. 


Life  and  Military  Services  of 
GENERAL    U.    S.   GRANT. 


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